When I Come Back to You
by FallingSilver
Summary: It’s been five years since Ryoma entered the U.S. Open and shocked the world with his talent. When he finally returns to Japan, he finds more than a few surprises waiting for him. [Lots of pairings.] Ch. 25: The ending, plus an epilogue.
1. Chapter 1: A Promise Kept

**Chapter One: A Promise Kept**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Prince of Tennis. ... which makes me sad.

**Author's Note:** Well, here it is. This fic is dedicated to my indestructible love for all the Seigaku regulars in _Prince of Tennis_. It's mainly about them, all nine of them, though plenty of other characters will be making guest appearances. It's also dedicated to the anime, which ended at episode 178. **It may contain some spoilers **because it takes place after the anime ends. But I'll try to keep this fic as spoiler-free as possible.

As for what this fic is, I can say it's something I've never tried before. It's a combination of several genres, and I don't know exactly how it will end just yet. But I will say it's a love story. Not a conventional one, but a love story nonetheless. I hope you enjoy it.

I should warn you… this fic contains both some **shonen-ai** type fluff and some **hetero**-style fluff. I don't describe any of the relationships in explicit terms, but both elements will be present, and I will be insinuating things left and right, lol. So if you hate one or the other with a passion, keep that in mind before reading. There are tons of different pairings in this fic, so you'll just have to read on to find out which ones they are.

By the way, I do want the characters to be a little bit different from their junior high days (you'll see why soon enough) but not out of character, if that's possible. So **constructive criticism is appreciated, and as always, I love all reviews.** But I will send Fuji to seek revenge on needlessly cruel flamers. Lol. Well, enough of that! Enjoy!

* * *

_I knew in that moment, in that moment when we said goodbye…_

_I knew that, someday…_

_We would meet again._

…

Mike Davis couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd been in the sports business for years, and he'd come to know his eccentric young charge like the back of his own hand. Nevertheless, he was overcome by disbelief at the words that had just come from the self-assured teenager's mouth.

"Cancel them. I'm not going."

It was a sweltering hot day in mid July, and Davis wondered for a split second if the heat was getting to him. The air conditioning system in the building had been down for a few hours, and one lone desktop fan was working frantically to cool down his office. In spite of that, Davis grimly noted, his client had not even broken a sweat.

_How like him._

The boy certainly had guts. Davis liked his attitude and was all but certain that it had been the key to his unbeatable success… But in a situation like this, it was unlikely to work to his own favor, as he knew well.

"You can't just cancel meetings with the sponsors. You know how important they are to your future career."

A positively sarcastic smirk slid across the young man's mouth.

"Of course. Because it's all about the money, isn't it, Mr. Davis?"

A frustrated sigh escaped from the older man's lips, and his clasped hands tightened almost imperceptibly. He could see where this was going.

"You know that's not what I'm saying. But someone's got to pay for the airfare, and the equipment, and the clothes, and the…"

"Mr. Davis, I understand your logic," the younger one interrupted. "But the fact remains. At this point, I could pay for all that myself. And then some."

Davis rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth out the creases on his damp brow.

"As true as that may be, you're not just your own person anymore. Not if you're going to remain allied with the people who've helped you become what you are. No, in your current position, you have responsibilities. And meeting with the sponsors next week in California is one of them."

The boy no longer seemed to be in the mood to interrupt him, and let him finish his stern reply, even the lone remark that Davis adroitly used to fill the pause that followed.

"Don't let me down, Ryoma."

Davis watched somewhat blankly as the young man rose from his seat and started pacing around the cramped room. He distinctly recognized the stubborn expression on the seventeen-year-old's face. It was the expression he often wore when he had decided that he was going to win a match, and that there was no way anyone was going to stop him.

_This doesn't look good. At all._

For a moment, the young man stood still. He was staring at a photograph that had been placed on one of the cluttered bookshelves. A small boy with glaring gold eyes stared straight back at the teenager. Ryoma decidedly frowned.

"Mr. Davis, I will not be meeting with the sponsors in a week."

His hands gripped the wooden picture frame and brought the picture closer to his own bright eyes.

"I will be taking a vacation for the rest of the month, to recover from the stress of competing in Wimbledon. You can tell that to the sponsors, and give them my apologies. But I will be unable to attend their meetings."

The words were said in a steely tone that was about as warm as black ice.

"Ryoma…" Davis tried to soften his own voice, hoping to change the direction the conversation had taken. "I understand that you're tired. But I can't just cancel all your appointments this month for some pleasure trip overseas."

There was a moment of silence as Ryoma placed the photo frame back onto the bookshelf. For a split second, Davis thought he saw something like sadness in the boy's eyes, but the sudden smile on Ryoma's lips diverted the older man's attention.

"It's not a pleasure trip, Mr. Davis."

His voice had become somewhat softer. It was a tone almost completely unfamiliar to Davis, even though he'd worked as Ryoma's manager for over four years.

"It's a promise. One I have to keep. Good day, Mr. Davis."

Mike Davis watched as his young client pushed the office door open with one hand, striding down the hallway with his ever-confident posture. He watched until he could no longer see that dark head of hair through the blinds that covered the office window. And, when he was really gone, Davis let a smile creep onto his face.

"You're stubborn as always, Ryoma Echizen."

He leaned back in his leather chair and glanced in the general direction of the photograph of the young boy with glinting gold eyes.

"'The stress of competing in Wimbledon?' Don't make me laugh." In spite of his own words, Davis chuckled and let his eyes wander downward to the magazine that lay in the middle of his desk.

**RYOMA ECHIZEN : WIMBLEDON CHAMPION ONCE AGAIN.**

"It isn't as if anyone could beat you."

- - - - - -

Ryuzaki Sakuno had finally found some shade under a rather bare tree. It wasn't as much as she would have liked, but in such overwhelming heat, any kind of shelter from the sun was a welcome comfort. Summer had certainly come to Japan, and it didn't seem like it was going to be a gentle one.

The teenage girl shifted from one foot to the other as she waited, frowning a little. Her attention wandered toward the broad blue sky, that sky that stretched far beyond her line of vision, reaching its zenith just above her head. Her eyes wandered across it for several minutes, glancing past the thin clouds that floated slowly out of her sight.

She slid the back of one hand across her forehead, pushing the sweat away from her eyes. It sure was hot. It was the kind of heat where a person's mind could start playing tricks on their vision, Sakuno reflected. A perfect heat for impossible mirages.

Or, at least, that was what she couldn't help thinking when she saw him.

There, just across the street, she saw him walking along the steaming sidewalk with that same confident bearing she remembered from five years ago. She might have even overlooked him, had it not been for that familiar white tennis cap on his head, just like the one he wore in her memories. But there could be no mistake, no matter how long it had been since she'd seen him.

It _was_ him.

It was Echizen Ryoma.

Suddenly, Sakuno found herself running straight across the street toward that familiar figure, heedless of the lone car that honked in reply. Her mind couldn't quite comprehend what was happening, but her feet carried her closer and closer to the young man, until…

"Ryoma-kun!" She felt her mouth form the word, but she hardly heard herself say it.

"_Ryoma-kun_!"

The second time, they both heard it. The young man turned around, and in an instant, Sakuno found herself face to face with him. Face to face with the youngest person to win all four Grand Slam Tournaments in tennis history. Face to face with Ryoma Echizen, who had become a Japanese icon in the time that he had faded into a mere memory in Sakuno's life.

Face to face… And all Ryoma could do was blink at her. She immediately realized why. It didn't surprise her in the least.

"You don't recognize me," she said, almost too quietly.

"I'm sorry, I…" She saw the confusion in those golden eyes, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps he was trying to place her.

"Ryuzaki Sakuno." She answered his unspoken question with a small smile. "You probably don't remember me… We went to the same junior high, and…"

Truthfully, she didn't expect him to remember at all. He'd forgotten her name enough times before, even when they used to see each other almost every day. To her surprise, however, he interrupted her somewhat hesitant explanation.

"Ryuzaki-san. I remember."

He returned her smile, and for a split second, Sakuno forgot her happiness at being recognized. All she could think of was how many times she'd seen that million-dollar smile on billboards and advertisements. She felt her heart skip a beat, and she understood more than ever why Echizen Ryoma's most devout fans worldwide were of the female variety.

She forgot to respond, and so it was Ryoma who filled in the following pause.

"I didn't recognize you at first. I think it's your…" Ryoma seemed not to know quite how to express his thoughts, but instead gestured toward his head. For a second, Sakuno didn't understand, but then her eyes fell on those dark strands of hair beneath Ryoma's cap.

"Oh, right! My hair…" Impulsively, her hand reached up to her own head and loosely grasped one of her brown locks. "Yes, I've cut it."

She couldn't resist a small chuckle at the faint memory of Ryoma telling her to trim her long braids, years ago.

"Yes. That's it." Ryoma nodded slightly, but his eyes were still thoughtful. When he started to speak again, it was in a more hesitant tone. "It's not just that, though. I don't know what… Well, never mind."

Sakuno raised her eyebrows at this unusual burst of eloquence from Ryoma. Abruptly over though it was, it wasn't quite like the Ryoma she remembered. And it was then that she began to notice that there were more than a few things about him that weren't quite like the Ryoma she had known. It wasn't so much his looks. He had grown taller, but his body still had something of the slim physique of the boy of twelve. It wasn't so much his voice, either, though it was not the same youthful voice he'd once had.

It was…

Well, Sakuno didn't know what it was. But it was something in those golden eyes. Something that she found vaguely unsettling, despite the fact that she couldn't describe it.

She interrupted her own thoughts, dismissing them as best she could. She didn't want her first new memory of him to be an unpleasant one, after all.

"I can't believe you're back in Japan," she remarked. "What brings you here after all this time? Isn't your family still in New York?"

"Ah, well… Yes, they are," Ryoma replied, almost awkwardly. "The truth is… Well, the truth is I don't have a reason. At least, not the kind of reason my manager appreciates."

He smiled knowingly for a moment, recalling how he'd walked out of Mr. Davis's office just the day before.

"I'm here to keep a promise, Ryuzaki-san," he said at last.

"A promise?" she repeated.

He didn't say anything more on the subject, instead glancing across the street that Sakuno had crossed in such a hurry. His eyes fell on the large building there, and on the placard bearing the words "Seishun Gakuen."

"So you did go to the high school," he observed suddenly.

"Huh?" Sakuno's eyes followed the tennis star's. "Oh, yes. Most of us did."

Ryoma didn't have to ask who she meant. He knew.

"Ryuzaki-san…" He turned to face her again. "It's a good thing I ran into you. Maybe you can help me with something…"

Sakuno noticed the look in his eyes grow distant. Somehow, she had a feeling she knew what that look meant. It surprised her. But then again, it didn't surprise her after all. It may have been five years since they'd last met, but…

"Ryoma-kun is Ryoma-kun," she said softly, smiling.

"What?" His attention snapped back to the present.

"I might not be able to help you, but I know someone who can," she cheerfully assured him. "I'm waiting for a friend right now, but if you don't mind waiting with me, I'll take you to him. We're meeting up at that restaurant in fifteen minutes."

Sakuno pointed down the street to a smaller, American-style diner.

"Wait… who is this someone?" Ryoma looked more than a little confused at her mysterious reply.

"Another friend of mine. You know him. Or, I guess I should say, you know _them_."

Sakuno didn't elaborate, but she gestured to Ryoma to follow her. And after looking both ways, she crossed the street properly, walking again toward that small piece of shade under a rather bare tree.

**-end of chapter one-**

* * *

_A/N: Gaaah, this first chapter was VERY hard for me to write...I knowitmay have been boring, but it will get much better. I promise! Expect a lot of exposition in the next chapter, but it shouldbe interesting.You'll be finding out what happened to the regulars while Ryoma was gone. Oh, and if you're wondering who "someone" is, well... who does a LOT of exposition in PoT? Lol... well, you'll see. Please review and tell me what you thought!_


	2. Chapter 2: Partly the Same

**Chapter Two: Partly the Same**

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Prince of Tennis.

**Author's Note:** Here's chapter two! Hope you all like it. From here on out, it gets good. (I hope.) Remember, you can read my full length, way too long Author's Note for the whole story in chapter one. In all its **may contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers make me cry** glory. XD

**To The Reviewers:** Thanks to all who reviewed **chapter one** so far! Extra love to **BluAyu** for reviewing… she just started posting a story like this too. So I was kinda afraid to post mine for fear of stepping on her toes, figuratively speaking. But she even read mine, which was sweet! Btw, MANY people are asking if this is a slash fic. And what the pairings are. Yes, there shall be slash/shonen-ai/yaoi/whatever you call it. LOTS of it. But I should warn you... my plan is to write it just a little differently than most fics do. If you keep that in mind, you should like my fic just fine. Err, I hope. As for the pairings, you'll start seeming some hints in chapter three. At least, that's the plan. Anyway...

Let me know what you think of **chapter two**, everyone!

* * *

_You and I together…_

_I still remember how it used to be._

_We were just kids back then. Still innocent, still foolish…_

_But now, when I think of you, it only hurts._

…

Sakuno should have seen this coming. After all, it was Tomoka that she'd been waiting for. How could she possibly expect to get a word in edgewise after she finally showed up from library duty?

"But after all," her energetic best friend was saying. "It's too weird! To think that Ryoma-sama, of all people, would just show up right in front of our school, today of all days! I mean, after all, we haven't seen you in AGES!"

Ryoma seemed almost half-dazed at the barrage of chatter that had beset his person in the form of a talkative teenage girl. Perhaps he was marveling at how quickly Tomoka's mouth could move, Sakuno thought to herself.

"But what brings you, the champion Ryoma-sama, to Seishun High? I mean, it's been AGES since we saw you last! Did you come to see us? Did you? Ryoma-sama?"

Ryoma was unabashedly staring at Tomoka by this point. He seemed unaware that all the upward inflection in her sentences was an attempt to solicit a reply from him, and not just a spectacle to behold.

Sakuno took this as her cue to interrupt.

"Ah… Tomo-chan…" She tapped on her friend's shoulder, attempting to get her attention.

"Sakuno, do YOU know why he's here? Did you know he was coming? You better not have been keeping secrets from me! I mean, I just about had a HEART ATTACK when I came down the walk and saw you standing next to RYOMA-SAMA of ALL PEOPLE…"

Tomoka's voice was getting progressively louder, which, as Sakuno knew, always happened when her friend got overly excited.

"That's… that's not it…" Sakuno glanced around, hoping that her friend's shrill exclamations hadn't attracted any unwelcome attention. "Um… well, that is…"

"WELL, SPIT IT OUT, SAKUNO!" Tomoka even started laughing, which at this point sounding more like a maniacal kind of cackle. Ryoma looked almost pained at the sound.

"We should get going!" Sakuno blurted out finally, embarassed. "We're going to be late!"

"Ehhhh?…." Tomoka blinked once, then twice, appearing somewhat caught off guard. "Oh, I guess you're right, Sakuno. We shouldn't keep them waiting like this."

She turned to Ryoma and pointed directly at him. "Ryoma-sama, you're coming too."

For a moment, Ryoma just looked dumbfounded. Then, as though he really couldn't help it, one corner of his mouth turn upwards in something akin to a smirk.

"If you say so, Osakada-san." He pulled his cap downward slightly, so that the girls could only see that half-smile just underneath the brim of his cap. "But, really, mada mada da ne."

There was a momentary pause.

"That is music to my ears," Tomoka said, almost in awe. And then she burst out giggling. Even Sakuno couldn't resist a smile. After all, Ryoma-kun really _was_ Ryoma-kun, no matter how many years had gone by.

Once they'd crossed the street, which for Sakuno was the third time in ten minutes, Tomoka began whispering excitedly in her friend's ear with something like ecstasy.

"Can you BELIEVE it?" She glanced back at where Ryoma was walking. "It really IS him! And he looks even better than in his photo ads!"

Sakuno couldn't resist a shy look backward herself. Tomoka babbled on, heedless of her friend's wavering attention. "He's absolutely GORGEOUS… It's no wonder the girls are all over him back in America! I'd be all over him! Heck, I'd be all over him NOW if it wasn't for…"

"Ah, Osakada-san?" At the sound of Ryoma's voice, Tomoka instantly turned around, her voice taking on a sugary-sweet tone.

"Yes, Ryoma-sama?"

"Isn't this the place?" He pointed at the diner to his left. The girls had already passed it by, Tomoka being too busy with talking and Sakuno with staring.

"Oh, right!" Tomoka seemed to feel the need to fill the awkward silence with her cackling laughter, for reasons neither Ryoma nor Sakuno could determine. "You're absolutely right, Ryoma-sama. Let's go in!"

"Ryuzaki-san, was she always like this?" Ryoma couldn't help mumbling to the less boisterous of the two females.

"Ah… well…" Sakuno chuckled nervously. "I guess Tomo-chan is also Tomo-chan."

"You mean, she's also _loud_." Ryoma put one hand to his ear, wincing.

"Ryoma-sama!" He winced again.

"Errr… yes?"

"I want to introduce you to someone!" she declared, taking him by the arm and all but dragging him toward one of the booths by the window.

"And who is that?" He was surprised to hear her say it so ostentatiously, as though she was about to announce the arrival of the Prime Minister.

"My boyfriend, of course!" Tomoka all but collared a brown-haired young man already sitting at the booth, across from two other teenage guys. "Hey, hot stuff, look who I brought with me! Look, look!"

Ryoma did a double-take. It had been five years, but he was sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. After all, that uni-brow was just too obvious a hint…

"H-Horio?"

"ECHIZEN?" The young man apparently recognized Ryoma as well, expressing this in a voice just as loud as Tomoka's.

_Was everyone in Japan always this loud, and I just got used to it? Geez…_

"Hey, you guys, it's Echizen!" Horio, for it was definitely him, was still shouting.

"Ryoma-kun! It IS you!" One of the dark-haired teenagers spoke up as well, getting up from the table in surprise.

"Is it really? I can't believe it!" the taller one chimed in with a tone of disbelief. "Ryoma-kun, what are you doing here?"

Ryoma stared for a moment, and then he pointed to the first boy and then the second. "Ahh… Katsuo? And Kachiro?"

"Ah, well, it's the other way around, but whatever," the shorter one explained amiably, laughing. "But it really is you, Ryoma-kun! And we were just talking about you, too!"

"You were?" Ryoma looked somewhat incredulous.

"You were?" Sakuno and Tomoka looked equally surprised.

"Yeah, it was on this page…" Katsuo grabbed a magazine off the tabletop and started flipping through it. The words on the cover read _Pro Tennis Monthly_.

"Oh, dear god, no…" Ryoma all but groaned. "Whatever it is, I don't want to see it!"

"Ah, it's nothing too bad, Echizen!" Horio grinned somewhat mischeiviously. "Not nearly as entertaining as those photo spreads in that one fashion magazine…"

Ryoma couldn't help glaring at his hapless former classmate. "It's not like I enjoy the modeling jobs, okay? But I happen to be the one paying for my parents' penthouse apartment in Manhatten…"

Horio's jaw dropped. "P… Penthouse apartment… in…. _Manhatten_?"

"He got you there, Horio!" Kachiro exclaimed amid the ensuing laughter. "You work at that fast food joint, don't you?"

Ryoma smirked again at that, but he resisted the urge to say anything.

"Well, here it is," Katsuo said finally, holding up the magazine. "It's just an article about how you won Wimbledon. You know, again. Inoue-san wrote it."

"Oh, that…" Ryoma just shrugged.

"Echizen…" Horio shook his head disapprovingly. "You are the ONLY person in the entire world who would shrug off a Wimbledon championship! I mean, really!"

"True as that may be," Tomoka interrupted. "I think we all really should sit down now."

"Ah, right!" Kachiro and Katsuo promptly moved over, and the former gestured to Ryoma to sit down. Which was how Echizen Ryoma found himself packed into a booth in a diner with not one, not two, but five of his former classmates.

"So what are you doing here, Ryoma-kun?" Katsuo inquired suddenly. "You haven't come back even once since you left for the U.S. Open. I would think all the journalists here would be stalking you by now, if they knew you were in Japan."

Ryoma glanced up from the placemat-style menu he was reading. "Ah, well… Nobody knows I'm here yet, except for my manager."

"Wait, what do you mean, no one? Your family knows, right?" Kachiro looked confused.

Ryoma paused for a moment, as though something had just occurred to him. "Hmm… I guess I should call them, come to think of it."

Everyone just stared at the teenage tennis star. "You didn't tell your parents?"

"Well, it's not such a big deal." Ryoma looked as though it was all perfectly normal. "I live by myself most of the time. I'm too busy to visit them that much. And I'm almost always traveling, anyway."

"He's so grown-up," Tomoka sighed, perfectly oblivious to the fact that she was swooning aloud in the presence of someone who was apparently her boyfriend.

"But if nobody knows you're here, why'd you come?" asked Kachiro, hoping to divert the attention of a now-grimacing Horio away from Tomoka's state of bliss. "It couldn't have been on business."

Ryoma didn't reply, and Sakuno thought she saw that… the _look_, somewhere deep inside his eyes. Just like before. But what did it mean?

"Well, no," he said finally. He met their eyes again, and Sakuno noticed the look had vanished. "It's more like a vacation."

"A vacation?" Now they all looked slightly confused. Tomoka tapped the surface of the table somewhat absently. "You mean, like you wanted to get away from your schedule or something?"

"Something like that," Ryoma agreed amiably. His voice even sounded a little distant, Sakuno thought.

There was a kind of awkward silence, but it lasted only a split second before Ryoma spoke up again, sounding much more like himself.

"So… is it true, what Osakada-san said before?" He even chuckled slightly, catching all of them off guard. Even Tomoka was lost. "What did I say before?"

"That you two are going steady?"

Just like that, the mood at the table completely changed. Tomoka was giggling, Horio was grinning like an idiot, and Katsuo was answering for them both. "Are they ever! They've been going out since our third year in junior high."

"That long?" Ryoma was actually surprised. He never would've guessed… Though the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like they could be made for each other. Two completely transparent and occasionally obnoxious loudmouths. A match made in heaven, really.

He chuckled again at the thought, but this time only under his breath.

"I guess it really has been that long, hasn't it?" Tomoka was practically beaming, though she promptly proceeded to belittle her significant other. "He's completely useless, of course, but he can be cute when he wants to be. And I make sure he treats me like the princess I am! You can bet I trained him right."

"Trained him is right," and Katsuo smirked. "You sure taught him how to _beg_."

"Katsuo!" Kachiro blurted, flushing slightly. "Don't say things like that!"

Ryoma blinked. This was all a bit of a surprise. He should have expected it, but he hadn't really given it any thought. They were all practically adults now, after all, he reasoned. Things_ should _have been different from the innocent days when they were all a mere twelve years old. Suddenly, he noticed how much older they seemed to his unaccustomed eyes. There was Katsuo, who was much taller than he was… Kachiro, whose quiet voice was nothing like the pre-pubescent squeak he remembered… And even obnoxious Horio was dressing like an adult and had a faint five-o'clock shadow around his mouth, of all things.

And it was these observations that, more than ever, made him feel somewhat uneasy about his real reasons for coming to Japan. All the chatter around him faded away into a sense of dread. And then came that bad feeling in the pit of his stomach again… Maybe it had been a stupid idea, after all…

Sakuno watched Ryoma stare off into space right across from her, and for what seemed like the hundredth time, she wondered what was bothering him. She could tell, somehow, that he was troubled… And, whatever it was about, it had nothing to do with where he was at the moment. No, his mind was far away, that much she could see. And at the thought of "far away," she guessed at what was perhaps part of the problem.

"Ahh… you know, Ryoma-kun…" When she finally spoke up, she found herself choosing her words carefully, catching the attention of everyone at the table. "Do you… I mean, that is… Have you seen anyone else yet?"

Ryoma glanced in her direction, and Sakuno could see that he knew what she meant. But just as quickly, he looked away again.

"No. You're the first."

Everyone was silent for a moment. A few knowing looks were exchanged, without Ryoma noticing.

"Oh, really?" Horio tried to sound at ease. He wasn't quite sure where the suddenly tense atmosphere had come from, but he had a hunch. "Well, of course, we're honored by the distinction, Echizen. But I would have thought you would have at least seen Momochan-senpai before us."

"Why would I see him first?" Ryoma interrupted, almost too quickly.

"Well, he's here in Tokyo, after all. Of course, you could have also seen Kikumaru-senpai in that case, and also…"

"Wait." Ryoma frowned. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" Now Horio was just confused. Katsuo and Kachiro glanced at each other.

"Ryoma-kun, you didn't know already?"

"Know what?" Ryoma didn't know, but he didn't like the way this was starting to sound. That uneasy feeling was becoming painfully difficult to ignore.

There was a strangely inevitable silence. Tomoka was fingering a straw wrapper that Horio had left on the table. Sakuno stared at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. Katsuo drew an invisible pattern on the magazine cover with his finger. And Kachiro just stared at the ice floating in his glass.

"Echizen," Horio said finally. "None of the senpais are here anymore. Except for Momochan-senpai, Kikumaru-senpai, and Kawamura-senpai."

"I know that," Ryoma almost snapped, feeling somewhat discomfited. "They're all in college."

"It's not that, Ryoma-sama." Even Tomoka's voice was quiet then, as though the subject itself was as delicate as glass.

"Three of them aren't even here in Japan."

**-end of chapter two-**

* * *

_A/N: I know, I know! This was a TERRIBLE cliffhanger! My bad, really! I didn't expect this scene to be nearly so long, but I figured I'd better not try to fit it all in one chapter at this rate. I'll try to get the next chapter done asap… Sorry to leave you hanging!_

_Well, by now I'm sure you all figured out who our Exposition Man is going to be. Yup, it's Mr. Seven Years of Tennis Experience, lol. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was a freshmen-fest. And if you're wondering why they're being so dramatic at the moment, well, you'll see! **Please review, and let me know what you think so far!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** More exposition than you can shake a stick at, along with Angst Power, plus the first appearance by a Seigaku Regular other than Ryoma:D_


	3. Chapter 3: Truth Unheard Of

**Chapter Three: Truth Unheard Of**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. I still cry at night over that fact.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter three! Enjoy! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Inui will blend flamers into Inui Juice. **Lol.

**Many thanks to all who have reviewed so far!** Let me know what you think of chapter three. You'll be finding out what happened to the Seigaku regulars. At this point you should be able to notice what some of the pairings will be. (Up to this point the only pairing has been Tomoka/Horio. O.O) Err… at least, I _think_ you'll be able to tell. Then again, my writing style may be too vague to figure it out… Anyway, on with the fic! XD

* * *

_It's been said that, in life, many people will disappoint you._

_And now…_

_Now I'm starting to think that those people that I thought for sure would never disappoint me…_

_Maybe they never even existed in the first place._

…

Ryoma was almost disgusted with himself. Why couldn't he say anything? It wasn't helping the situation, being unable to put into words the questions that were racing through his mind.

_This is ridiculous_.

Without realizing what he was doing, Ryoma felt his hands tighten into two rigid fists as he attempted to react aloud to what he'd just heard.

"Not… In Japan."

He heard the way he said it, and realized it had come out wrong. He had meant to say it like a question, a question to solicit an explanation. Instead, it sounded like a statement of surrender, surrender to something inevitable.

"Yes, Ryoma-kun, it's true," Kachiro spoke up, looking almost taken aback. Even he hadn't expected that Ryoma would be this surprised at the news.

"Yes… well… that's…" Ryoma was stumbling over his own words now. He couldn't quite figure out what it was that he wanted to say. "That's… unexpected. But… I shouldn't be surprised, right?"

He even smiled, an almost sour smile that seemed to find the situation ironic.

"I wouldn't say that, Ryoma-kun," Sakuno said quietly, surprising the others present, who would have thought she'd be the last person to speak up in such an awkward situation. "It was a shock to almost everyone at the time. But it's been a year already since then."

_A year? Which would have to mean…_

"It sure WAS a shock," Horio agreed, nodding sagely. "I don't know anyone who DIDN'T talk about it for at least a month. Especially about the whole thing with Tezuka-buchou."

"Tezuka-buchou?" Ryoma heard himself repeat. He felt strangely blank, like half of what was being said wasn't really registering in his brain.

"You guys, come on," Katsuo scolded gently, interrupting Horio. "This is cruel. We should at least tell Ryoma-kun about it before we start going off like this about the whole thing."

"I don't really…" Ryoma was about to protest when Horio started babbling again.

"You're right, Katsuo. Exactly right. We should tell Echizen about the whole thing. After all, Echizen," and he turned to face Ryoma again. "I had been meaning to ask what you thought about it all, since you knew the senpais so well. But I thought you would already know all about it."

Ryoma didn't know what to say at that, but Tomoka spoke up for him.

"It's not Ryoma-sama's fault. You can't blame him for not keeping in touch with them. He must have been insanely busy, after all."

"Right, right, you're right." Horio agreed with his girlfriend easily enough, looking extremely pleased to be the 'one in the know,' just like old times.

"Well, here's the whole story, in that case…"

…

"_I will not be attending your university in the fall, as I had originally intended. I have accepted an offer overseas instead. I would like to transfer my previously submitted transcripts to a school in Berlin, and reject my academic scholarship at this time."_

"_I thought maybe I could run away. Don't you think that sounds like a much better idea than wasting another four years in this stagnant, heartless city?"_

"_Don't cry. You know it'll be fine, right? I'll write you all the time. You'll even forget I'm gone before long. I know you'll be just fine. Really, you will. Just wait and see."_

…

"Then, Tezuka-buchou, Fuji-senpai, and Oishi-senpai are all---?" Ryoma couldn't help wanting to confirm it, even though he'd heard Horio word for word.

"Right. They decided to go to school overseas instead of attending college in Kantou, like Momochan-senpai and Kikumaru-senpai did," Horio replied bluntly. "It makes perfect sense in Oishi-senpai's case, if you ask me. He got a scholarship to THE Oxford University in London, and everyone figured right away that he would accept. Although Momochan-senpai told me until the very day Oishi-senpai got on the plane that he didn't think he'd actually go through with it. But he did, and that was that. I don't know why Momochan-senpai thought it was so unthinkable, really…"

"You're rambling again!" Tomoka scolded him. "Oishi-senpai went because it was such an amazing offer. The real mystery was with Fuji-senpai and Tezuka-senpai!"

"She's right, you know," Katsuo cut in. "At least Oishi-senpai said from the beginning that he was going to England. But not Fuji-senpai. Fuji-senpai just decided at the last minute that he was going to that art school in Paris…"

"Paris?" Ryoma interjected incredulously. This was starting to sound surreal, like some kind of poorly-written movie script. And all of them were talking so fast that he couldn't sort out his thoughts. "Did you say an art school in _Paris_?"

"Ah, yes, that's what happened," Kachiro obligingly confirmed. "It doesn't sound like it could be true, does it? But he really _is_ in France. I guess Fuji-senpai is full of surprises, isn't he?"

"You can say that again," Horio muttered, looking annoyed at something. "Especially during his senior year when he pulled that fast one with the tennis cl---"

"What about Buchou?" Ryoma interrupted, who seemed not to hear what Horio was saying.

"Oh, Tezuka-senpai?" Tomoka replied. "Tezuka-senpai's the strangest of all. He practically _disappeared_ about two weeks before he was supposed to start school in Kyoto. He sent in a letter rejecting his scholarship there, which apparently also said he was going to attend school in Germany. But that's just about all anyone knows about him."

"So he went back to Germany." Ryoma frowned. _That doesn't sound right…_

"Well, that's what the letter said, but would you believe it? No one can find out which university he's going to. Some of his friends have been trying to track him down, but no one can get ahold of him." Horio just shrugged.

"I heard a rumor a few months ago that even his _parents_ don't know exactly where he is… Momochan-senpai said that he thought that they'd found his name in the registry of some business school in Berlin, but that it's only as a part-time student," Katsuo added.

"That's stupid," Ryoma said finally, sounding irritated. "Rumors like that are always exaggerated. Of course his parents know."

"Hmm… well, you're probably right," Katsuo admitted readily enough, not noticing Ryoma's agitation. "It doesn't sound like Tezuka-buchou at all, does it? And even if they don't know, I'm sure _somebody_ has a phone number or a mailing address…"

"I bet that the senpais know how to get ahold of him," Kachiro put in. "But I wouldn't ask them about it. It all seems to be a kind of touchy subject…"

"This is just _stupid_!" Ryoma blurted out, with a kind of forcefulness in his voice that made his former classmates stare at him in surprise. Ryoma himself was all too aware of how angry he had sounded… but any explanation, any excuse, any trivialization of the outburst seemed to stick in his throat. It was stuck, stuck like the memory of so many words spoken so long ago…

…

"_I have no doubt of it. You will be on top of the world. Just don't leave any regrets when you get there, Echizen. And don't forget us, either."_

…

"_We'll still be here, Echizen. You know that, right? So you can't just stay away forever. Come back to us, okay?"_

…

"_Nya, Ochibi, you promise you'll come back when you're famous and all that? Because I want your autograph, n-y-aa! I'll get your autograph and I'll show it to all my friends who didn't know you before and I'll tell them, I'll tell them that I KNEW Ochibi… I mean, that I knew Echizen Ryoma… before he was all that and on top of the world and the best tennis player EVER, nya!"_

…

"_I'll tell you a secret, Echizen… I'll be jealous of every single player that gets to challenge you on that center court. Once you're on top of the world, would you come back and give me the thrill of being destroyed by a champion? Well… if you CAN destroy me by then, of course…"_

…

"_Your condition is better and better every day, Echizen. The odds of you winning the Grand Slam within the next couple of years are exceptionally high. But I can't take all of your data using international broadcasts. You plan to come visit Japan, don't you?"_

…

"_Ahh… well, Echizen, I don't really know what to say… except, do your best! And…don't forget about us, okay? We'll all miss you."_

…

"_You just better not lose, Echizen. If you lose, I will hunt you down myself and set you straight… And if you don't lose, just don't go and do something stupid like get so full of yourself that you never come back here. Got that, freshman?"_

…

"_Promise me, Echizen. Promise me that you'll come back. I swear I'll follow you, if I can, but if I can't…_

_Promise me!" _

…

"I'm sorry," Ryoma said finally, cutting through the dead silence that had engulfed the group. "I don't know what… I mean… Just forget it."

He slouched his shoulders slightly, pulling his cap over his eyes. More than ever, he wondered if he should just take the next flight back to California. He could still make it in time to meet with the sponsors, just like he was supposed to…

After all, that was his world now. A world of fame and fortune, and tennis. Japan wasn't his home, not anymore. And his friends… They probably weren't his friends anymore, either.

Yes, he had come back. It had been a promise.

A promise that no one had waited on him to fulfill.

… What was the use of it all, anyway? It was just some stupid promise he'd made when he was only twelve…

"Ryoma." At first, he thought someone else had said it, and he looked up, surprised to hear that ever-familiar voice… But he had heard wrong.

"Ryoma-kun," Sakuno was saying. "It's okay to be upset about it."

"I'm not." Ryoma mustered all his effort to sound completely natural. "I'm not… it was just… It was sudden. For me, I mean. When you said it…"

He paused, as if gathering his thoughts.

"But I didn't keep in touch with them, after all. It's no big deal. I'll just write them or something… some other time. Maybe."

He shrugged his shoulders apathetically, but there was a glint in his eyes that Sakuno guessed was of bitterness.

"So…" Ryoma's voice had started to sound almost unnaturally light. "What happened to Inui-senpai? And Kaidoh-senpai? In Africa, maybe?"

He chuckled slightly, which also sounded nothing like him at all.

"No, nothing like that," Horio finally replied. "Inui-senpai decided to start training near one of the big universities in Kyushu. I heard he planned to take some college courses online there, but for the most part, he's dedicating himself full-time to improving his tennis game. I think he's playing in one of the minor circuits now."

"That's so like Inui-senpai, isn't it?" Kachiro smiled. "He always knows just what he's doing."

Ryoma said nothing, but Sakuno thought she saw him relax slightly.

"And Kaidoh-senpai is training there, too," Horio finished. "He heard about how great Kyushu is supposed to be for your health. I think he heard about it from Inui-senpai. Anyway, I guess Kaidoh-senpai thought that was good enough for him, so he's already been there a few months. I think Momochan-senpai said that they were supposed to be rooming together over there or something."

"You mean, Inui-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai?" Ryoma furrowed his eyebrows, trying to keep up.

"Right." Horio thought for a moment. "I guess that's the whole list, isn't it? Except for Momochan-senpai and Kikumaru-senpai. They're both going to the same university in Tokyo, about a twenty-minute trip from here."

"Ah. I see," Ryoma replied shortly.

"You see?" Horio just sighed. "We tell you all that, and that's all you say? Really, Echizen, what do you think of it all? You know the senpais better than we do."

"You mean, I _knew_ them better than you _did_," Ryoma quickly corrected him.

"Ehh… well, I guess… but what do you---"

"What do I think?" Ryoma stood up and slung the backpack he had with him over his shoulder.

"I think it's not really any of my business. Especially not anymore."

With that, the teenage tennis star walked away from the group and toward the exit. For a moment, his former classmates could only glance at each other in confusion.

"Ryoma-kun is certainly as cold as ever," Kachiro finally remarked, sighing.

"No joke!" groaned Horio. "I thought maybe he'd at least be _interested_. Did he really just come for a vacation, after all?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I don't think that's it," Sakuno said at last, looking up with a kind of sadness in her eyes. "I think Ryoma-kun was really hurt by all of that. He wasn't acting like himself."

"I think Sakuno is right," Tomoka agreed. "And I have an idea that just might help."

The others only looked at her, surprised at the sudden resolve in her voice.

- - - - - - -

Echizen Ryoma didn't even feel himself push open the door to the restaurant, but he did feel a sudden breeze pulling at him from the west as he stepped outside. To his surprise, it was already sunset, and the edges of twilight were just starting to spread into the horizon.

He let a frustrated sigh escape from his lips. Really, what was wrong with him these past few days? What was he doing on this crazy little island, anyway?

The truth was, Ryoma knew exactly why he was there. He felt those reasons more strongly than ever before… And yet, he'd also had more than a few doubts about the idea, doubts that had been multiplied by what he had just heard. It was true. It had been five years since Ryoma had seen them all last. And yet, while he had lived in Japan, Ryoma had really come to know his senpais. He was sure of this. But what he'd just heard from his friends… Even though some of it sounded like things they might do, much more of it sounded nothing like them at all.

Something had gone wrong while he was away.

That was the ugly feeling nagging at him now. Something was really wrong here. The captain he had known would never go back on his word and just disappear like that. And what about Oishi-senpai and Eiji-senpai? They had been best friends, hadn't they? Maybe it was just because they had been the famous Golden Pair, but Ryoma would've guessed that they would have stayed together for much longer than just through high school. Instead, according to Horio and the others, they were now continents apart.

And what about the rest of them? What about tennis? When it came to tennis, Horio had only mentioned that Inui-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai were training in the minor circuits. What had happened to _tennis_? Tennis had brought them together, and it had been his senpais' love for the sport that had finally awakened Ryoma's ambitions to become a pro.

What about that? What about _all_ of that? What could have happened?

He squinted toward the dimming horizon. Even on such a warm evening, the sharp wind cut into him, making his eyes water. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the moisture away. The last thing he wanted to do was make it look like he'd been _crying_. Honestly. Of all the stupid things…

"Ryoma-kun."

He had no idea why he even bothered to turn around, but turn around he did. There was Sakuno, and the others were beside her, too. She had a smile on her lips. A small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless… which, to Ryoma's mood, seemed more than a little out of place.

"Ryoma-kun, can we take you somewhere before you go?"

Before Ryoma could even respond, Tomoka took him by the arm and started to lead him down the street, with the others following.

"Let's go, Ryoma-sama. We'll have to hurry to make it on time!"

- - - - - -

"You guys, this is really stupid," Ryoma couldn't help observing at last. He'd played along as best he could, but he was utterly aware of how ridiculous he must have looked.

"Sorry, Ryoma-kun, but we didn't have anything better than that," Katsuo's voice said apologetically.

"You could've just taken me there…" He sighed.

"Nope, Echizen. Not possible. It's a surprise!" Horio's voice asserted confidently. "Besides, this way, no one will recognize you. If they _did_ recognize you, everyone on this train would go completely crazy and smother you alive asking for your autograph."

"So, instead, they'll stare at me like I'm a nutcase," was Ryoma's cynical comment. He knew he sounded annoyed, but he couldn't help it. First, they'd all insisted that their destination was a secret, and they had refused to tell Ryoma where they were taking him. Now, they'd forced him to wear a blindfold, which in this case meant wearing part of Horio's school uniform over his eyes. Yes, Echizen Ryoma was riding on public transportation with a necktie wrapped around his head. This just kept getting worse…

"Okay, Ryoma, we're going to steer you from behind, so just walk forward," Tomoka's energetic voice was saying. Ryoma felt a pair of hands on his back, and a few arms steadying him from either side.

"Can't I just take this thing off?"

"NO!" Again, Ryoma sighed, but he grudgingly obeyed. He didn't have much choice, after all, being completely unable to see where he was going.

It took awhile for the hapless teenagers to direct their charge to the right place, but finally, Ryoma heard a few voices say, "We're here!"

He reached back to yank the necktie off of his head, but someone else beat him to it. The blindfold slipped away from his eyes, and right in front of him was…

There it was. There it was, after all.

Well, this part was just like he remembered it.

He meant to smile. He meant to say thank you to all of them, for trying to help, as he supposed they had been. But the anxiety of the day had remained with him too strongly for that. They seemed to understand, though. They weren't angry that he didn't look happy about it. They were just… just…

"I---" Ryoma tried to form some kind of sentence, but found himself completely incapable of the task.

"Just go on," Tomoka interrupted, shooing him away with her hand. She was smiling. "You know your way back, right?"

"Right, but…" Now Ryoma was confused. What did she mean by that?

"We'll see you some other time, Ryoma-kun," Katsuo added. "We're going home now."

Ryoma understood then. They knew after all. They knew he needed to do this by himself.

"Thank you," he said finally. He managed a kind of half-smile.

"See you later, Echizen!" Horio waved, and most of them followed his example and started walking back down the street. Sakuno stood there, just for a moment, and smiled softly. But then she turned and followed her friends, without even looking back or waving goodbye.

Ryoma turned to face the small building in front of him. He was unsure until the very last second if he would actually have the courage to go inside, but he finally pushed open the sliding wooden door. The slight creak it made was just exactly like he remembered.

He wasn't sure what he expected to see once he stepped inside. Maybe part of him even thought that it would be noisy and crowded in there, just like old times. But it was empty and quiet, except for two people who stood at the other end of the room. It had been five years, but he recognized the man behind the counter. He didn't recognize the young woman, whose face was very close to the man's as she spoke softly about something.

At the sound of the door opening, they both looked straight at Ryoma. And the reaction to his entrance was a little strange, he thought, as the two glanced at each other. The young woman quickly nodded to the man, saying only, "I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, she walked toward the door. Ryoma thought he saw her smile at him gently as she passed by.

She closed the door behind her, and for a minute, there was only silence as the young men stared at each other, with the newness that five years had given to both their eyes. But then Ryoma walked up to the counter, to the same stool he'd sat on once, a very long time ago. He sat down there, laying his head on the counter with a sigh.

And at that sound, as though the other young man really couldn't help himself, he walked behind the counter to where Ryoma was sitting. And he started stroking the seventeen-year-old's hair, with a look that said that he knew exactly what the sigh had meant.

Ryoma didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, with his old friend's hand running through his hair over and over, until he finally said something, slowly, sadly…

"What _happened_, Kawamura-senpai?"

**-end of chapter three-**

* * *

_A/N: Whew! That was a LOOONNGG chapter, but I wanted to make sure I covered everything. I hope it wasn't boring… This was another hard one for me to write, mainly because of all the exposition. Hopefully you all enjoyed it anyway. :) And yes, Taka-san finally showed up! Yay! And the promise was revealed, too. Hopefully you all could tell who was speaking during the second flashback sequence. (In case you couldn't, here's the order: Tezuka/Oishi/Eiji/Fuji/Inui/Taka/Kaidoh/Momo.) That scene will come up again later, and I'll explain it more then. Expect this story to move a bit quicker now. I'll be starting to change settings and re-introducing characters more quickly. Well, I'll get the next chapter up asap! **Please review and let me know what you thought! **I really appreciate all the reviews! They help me keep focused. :)_

_**Coming Up Next:** Courtesy of Taka-san, Ryoma finds out a little bit about how the Regulars changed during high school. And, speak of the devil, a few more Regulars show up later in the chapter. There's also a small taste of the drama yet to come… _


	4. Chapter 4: Fallen to Pieces

**Chapter Four: Fallen to Pieces**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Dangit.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter four! Hope you like it! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Kaidoh will hiss menacingly at flamers. **Lol.

Many thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. I'm not sure if you can tell who the pairings are yet, since the last chapter was so vague. But you should be able to start noticing some of the hints by this point. Well, maybe… I hope. I'll try to start being more obvious, but sometimes I get caught up in hinting at things as subtly as possible, lol… Either way, enjoy the new chapter! And **please let me know what you think! **I'll love you forever! XD

* * *

_I remember the days before all of this happened, before it all fell apart._

_Do you remember those days?_

_Promises meant something back then. Friendships were forever. Dreams weren't impossible._

_Yes, I remember those days sometimes…_

_And then I wake up._

…

Momoshiro Takeshi woke up to the sound of someone calling his name.

"Momo. _Momo_!"

There was that sound again. Whose voice was that? He turned over, pulling the covers over his head, and tried to ignore it. It was still dark. There was no way he was getting out of bed before dawn, no matter who was calling him at this godforsaken hour of the night…

"Hey, MOMO!"

The voice sounded more agitated now. Suddenly Momoshiro found himself in a fight for his bed sheets, and he was losing. He ended up with his body only halfway on the bed, and with the sheet wrapped around his ankles, still being pulled repeatedly by some annoying…

"Eiji-senpai!" he groaned. "What do you WANT?"

"It's the phone, stupid." Rolling his eyes, Momoshiro's roommate tossed him the receiver. Momo managed to catch it with one hand, despite his currently fuzzy grip on reality.

"Ehhh… hello?" he mumbled into the wireless hunk of plastic. There was a loud reply on the other end.

"Oh. Horio. What's going on?" Momo paused for a moment and then switched to a much more irritable tone. "Wait a second… Do you know what TIME it is? It's ONE in the MORNING! Well, I don't really CARE what in the…"

Momo was abruptly silenced by something said on the other end, which caught Eiji's attention as well.

"You said… Did you just say what I think you said?"

There was another pause. While the voice on the other end babbled on, Momo glanced at Eiji meaningfully.

"We'll be over there right away."

- - - - - - -

Kawamura Takashi was standing with his back to Ryoma, using a damp rag to wipe down one of the countertops. It had been at least five minutes, and he still hadn't responded to Ryoma's question. The silence was starting to grate on Ryoma's nerves, a sensation he'd never experienced before. But then, he supposed he'd never really _cared_ very much whether someone spoke before.

"Kawamura-senpai…" Ryoma was about to repeat himself when Taka suddenly spoke up.

"You heard all about it, didn't you, Echizen?"

Taka's voice was even kinder than Ryoma remembered it. It was a very warm voice, but at the moment, it held its own kind of sadness, too. And it was the sadness that caught Ryoma's attention.

"Yes… I mean… you mean about the---?" Ryoma felt his own voice trail off without actually forming a sentence.

"About them leaving? Yeah, that's what I meant." Taka actually sighed, slowly folding up the dishrag and placing it in a drawer underneath the counter.

"It's not really news anymore, though," he continued. "It's been more than a year. And it wasn't all that strange to begin with. Right?"

Ryoma couldn't even guess what that feeling was that he could hear in Taka's voice, but he knew that it made him uncomfortable.

"That wasn't what I heard," the young tennis star said at last. "I heard it was very strange. That people were talking for months."

Taka finally turned around and faced Ryoma, and there was a distinctly darkened expression on his face. He nodded seriously.

"Right. They were. You probably heard some of the rumors already," Taka replied. He was frowning. "You were talking to Horio, weren't you?"

"The rumors…" Ryoma thought for a moment.

…

"_He got a scholarship to THE Oxford University in London…"_

"… _just decided at the last minute that he was going to that art school in Paris…"_

"… _even his parents don't know exactly where he is."_

…

"Yes, I heard some of them," he answered, trying to sound quite normal. "It was… unexpected. Right?"

"You might say that. But, then again, it wasn't so unexpected, really." Taka was silent for a split second.

"Echizen, the truth is…" He took a deep breath.

"The truth is, they're not the same people you knew. Not anymore."

…

"_I don't know why… But I can't do it. I can't go on like this. It no longer has any meaning for me. I don't know when, but… Somewhere along the way, I lost it. I lost my purpose in life."_

"_There's no way I'm staying here for another four years. Do you seriously think I'm just going to watch his back for the rest of my life? No. This time, I'll be the one to walk away. And he'll follow me. You'll see… He will…"_

"_So I'm lying. But I can't tell him the truth! I can't tell him why I'm really leaving… He'd try to keep me here. He'd try to say it's okay. But it's not. It's not okay for us. We'd never be happy like that. Because I'll never be happy until I get something I can't have…"_

…

"Kawamura-senpai, I don't understand," Ryoma confessed. "I could tell something happened. But what? Why aren't they the same?"

"What happened?" Taka repeated slowly. He shrugged his shoulders a little. "Who knows? You're right, though. Something went wrong after you left. It was fine for the first few years. We were all going to Seigaku High. You heard that much, didn't you?"

"I did…" Ryoma recalled Sakuno's words earlier that day.

"Well, that wasn't bad. They were all in the tennis club, too, just like in junior high…" Taka let his words trail off, glancing all around him for a second. "Of course, I wasn't playing anymore. You remember how my sushi chef training was supposed to start in high school. So I didn't do any clubs. But I was glad that they were all playing tennis. It seemed right, like the old days, you know?"

Ryoma nodded, listening carefully. So far, it sounded like the friends he remembered.

"But it wasn't quite like it used to be, either," Taka continued. "High school teams are much more competitive, of course. And not everybody was making the cut. Even by the end of my second year, some of them still weren't in regular spots on the team. And that's when I started to notice it."

"Notice what?" prodded Ryoma, not liking the look in Taka's brown eyes.

"It wasn't like old times at all," Taka said finally. "They weren't themselves. Well, of course Tezuka was crushing every opponent he came across. Because he's _Tezuka_. And around that same time, Inui started playing really well all of a sudden. He's always been good, but I guess he just really hit his stride during high school. But Oishi and Eiji… Well, they were having a hard time beating the senpais, and the coach said he thought their teamwork was off. After Eiji heard that, he started getting pretty frustrated… Because, you know, Eiji was always really proud of their teamwork."

"Wait… The Golden Pair was off? Is that what you mean?" Ryoma looked confused.

"They were. And you know what else? Momoshiro and Kaidoh weren't fighting anymore. They just started ignoring each other. I never found out why."

"Momo-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai… not fighting?" Ryoma asked incredulously. "But, Kawamura-senpai…"

"That wasn't the worst of it," Taka added. "The worst part was at the beginning of my third year, when Fuji quit the club."

There was a pause.

"What?" Ryoma had heard him, but he couldn't believe it.

"Fuji quit the club," Taka repeated. "He quit tennis. For good."

"But _why_, Kawamura-senpai?" exclaimed Ryoma, suddenly rising to his feet. "Why would Fuji-senpai quit tennis?"

"I don't know for sure. I can only tell you what he told me," Taka said calmly. He took a few steps toward Ryoma and placed his warm, rough hand on top of Ryoma's fingers, which he had unconsciously pressed against the countertop in surprise.

…

"_I'm quitting because I hate tennis."_

…

"That's what he told me," explained Taka, looking Ryoma straight in the eye. "But what he meant by that… Your guess is probably as good as mine."

Ryoma felt himself slowly sit down again, still feeling that hand on top of his own.

"I… I have no idea. Why would Fuji-senpai---?"

His voice was soft, hesitant, even hurt. Fuji-senpai quitting tennis? To Ryoma, it was unthinkable. For him, he could still feel the rain in his face, the chill against his skin, the wind in his eyes… For him, that day when he faced Fuji on the court would always be unforgettable. Fuji-senpai quitting tennis? If he remembered the rain, if he remembered _him_… How could he possibly quit?

Taka looked at the young man in front of him for a moment. It was true, what the articles said, he thought. Echizen Ryoma had grown up, and he was just as attractive as all the Japanese reporters raved. But to Taka's eyes at least, he was still very much the boy he remembered. He was still on the small side, for a teenager who had probably already had a big growth spurt. And this fact, coupled with the expression of distress on that youthful face… Well, it made Taka wish he could protect the boy from a few certain truths that he knew…

"Kawamura-senpai." Ryoma's voice startled Taka out of his thoughts. "What about Buchou? Where is he? What happened to him?"

Taka couldn't help sighing one more time. Here came the tough questions…

"Tezuka's going to college in Germany, just like you heard. But it's only part-time. He's been traveling all over Europe. Or so I've been told, anyway."

"But _why_? Wasn't he supposed to go to college in Osaka?" Ryoma inquired, trying to understand why Tezuka, of all people, would be wandering around that particular continent.

Taka looked as though there was something he was loathe to bring up.

"Tezuka had a tough time during our last year of high school," he explained hesitantly. "As you probably guessed, he was the captain of the tennis club again. And, well… The team didn't do very well during tournament season. They were eliminated in the first round of the Kantou Regionals."

Ryoma felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. This wasn't anything like the tennis club he'd known. Confused, distracted, broken up… losing? What in the world…?

"How did they lose?" Ryoma said, barely louder than a whisper.

"It was just a bad coincidence, really. But even if things hadn't happened like they did, they probably still would've lost. Oishi was eliminated from the regulars the week before the tournament, and it caused a real problem in the lineup," Taka replied. "Kaidoh and Inui played in first doubles and got the only win in the match-up. Eiji was put in third singles, and the pressure was just too much for him. Tezuka never even played."

For a moment, they were both silent.

"It was a shock, I guess you could say," Taka spoke up again. "Tezuka lived and breathed tennis, you know. Suddenly all the third-years had to resign, and there was nothing to think about except college. I think he must have wondered what had gone wrong. And he probably never forgave himself for the loss, even if it wasn't his fault. It was nothing like junior high, after all."

Ryoma knew that much. It had been very different in junior high, right until the very end. The fact that his old teammates had pulled off a National Championship in his absence had been his pride and his comfort for five years.

But what about this new information? That only three years after that, they had completely fallen apart? It was surprising enough to blot out the happiness of that achievement. And it was shocking enough to send a million questions racing through his mind, questions that were still unanswered.

_In high school, some of them never even made it to the regulars._

_Momo-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai stopped fighting._

_Fuji-senpai quit the club._

_Kikumaru-senpai and Oishi-senpai were out of sync. Before the Regionals, Oishi-senpai was eliminated from the team._

_Inui-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai were the only ones to win a match during the round that eliminated Seigaku from tournament competition._

And that was it? That was all there was to it? That didn't answer anything. But it did confirm Ryoma's suspicions. Something had gone wrong while he was away. Very wrong. And he wanted to know what it was.

He glanced at his senpai, who met his gaze only for a moment and then turned away. In that instant, Ryoma realized what that look was, hidden somewhere in those honest brown eyes.

"You know, don't you?" No reply, only silence.

"You know more than you're telling me, Kawamura-senpai!" He clenched his hands, feeling almost frustrated. "You know why they---"

The sudden sound of an opening door startled both of them. Ryoma's head turned involuntarily toward the entrance of the sushi restaurant, and there stood…

Two men?

No… wait…

They were…

"Kikumaru-senpai?" His voice slowly faded to a whisper. "Momo-senpai…"

He just stared at them. He knew that there was something he should be saying. But whatever it was, it was stuck in his throat. Why was his heart beating so irregularly?

…

"_I'll tell them that I KNEW Ochibi… I mean, that I knew Echizen Ryoma… before he was all that and on top of the world and the best tennis player EVER, nya!"_

"_Promise me, Echizen. Promise me that you'll come back. … Promise me!"_

…

Echizen Ryoma was being completely smothered.

"It really is you! It's our little Ochibi!" an almost unfamiliar voice was saying, while two arms squeezed the life out of him.

"K-Kikumaru-senpai…" Ryoma gasped, trying to breathe. His redheaded senpai was somewhat stronger than he remembered.

"Uh… Eiji, you're going to strangle him," Taka's voice was saying, somewhere over Ryoma's head.

"Aw, he can take it!" that voice responded, echoing inside the chest Ryoma was being pressed against with gusto. "He's a big shot now, right? All that and on top of the world, too! I saw you win Wimbledon for the fourth time last week, you little troublemaker! You're making all the big tough pros cry!"

Just as suddenly as he'd been taken into Eiji's vice grip of death, he was pushed backwards so the redhead could look him in the face. Ryoma was starting to feel dizzy.

"And you're even cuter than in all the magazines!" Eiji declared, sounding surprisingly like a mother hen clucking over one of her chicks. "You're ADORABLE! And you've grown, too! You're not just four feet tall anymore!"

"Kikumaru-senpai, I was _not_ just four fe---" Ryoma tried to object, but Eiji rambled on.

"In fact, if you have another growth spurt, you might actually get taller than me! Now that would be something! I'd still call you Ochibi, though. And don't you forget it!" Eiji fondly mussed the tennis star's dark hair. "Once our Ochibi, always our Ochibi. Got that?"

"Got what?" Ryoma wanted to ask, but he gave up trying to get a word in edgewise as Eiji talked on. Instead, he looked at the two newcomers for a moment, trying to comprehend what five years had done to change their appearance.

It hadn't been all that much, he decided. He had recognized them without any trouble. And they were still taller than he was, he noted almost regretfully. He wondered for a split second if he'd always be the short one when it came to his senpais. But in thinking that, he noticed the first change. Momo was taller than Eiji now. Yes, that was different…

But that difference didn't bother him. And it was true. Something was bothering him.

He was going to interrupt Eiji again when he glanced at Momo, and suddenly, their eyes met. Momo's eyes… Ryoma had forgotten how _purple_ those eyes were…

"Hey, Echizen," was all Momo said. Just a simple greeting, and a familiar smile.

In a way, it made Ryoma feel better. It was still the same smile, after all.

"Hey," he said, smiling back. That was it. But he did feel better. Really, he did…

He swallowed, and the choking feeling left. Yes, something was bothering him, but it didn't matter…

"Hey?" Eiji repeated suddenly, looking almost annoyed. "_Hey_? We see THE Echizen Ryoma, our Ochibi, for the first time in five years and all you have to say is 'hey'? Gosh, Momo, of all people, I didn't expect YOU to go all quiet on me at a time like this! Really!"

"Well, I didn't want to interrupt you, Eiji-senpai," laughed Momo. "You were on a roll, after all."

"Yeah, well, I thought you'd jump in at some point!" Eiji tossed his head, waving his hand almost dismissively. "Anyway, I was excited. Unlike YOU, apparently. You know, you never used to be so calm about WORLD CHAMPIONS showing up after five years at Taka-san's place completely out of the blue and…"

Ryoma blinked. Suddenly something clicked.

"That's what you sound like," he said, forgetting that he was interrupting Eiji's rant.

"Huh?" Eiji stopped babbling. Momo looked equally confused. "Sound like what?"

"The two of you sound like a married couple," he said calmly, pointing at Eiji and then Momo, in that order.

There was a pause. Taka started laughing.

"Well, they _are_ roommates now, Echizen," he said, confirming Ryoma's suspicions.

"Oh, I see." The teenage tennis star smirked. "So you _are_ like a married couple."

"Ochibi!" Eiji was aghast. "We are NOT! I just took Momo-chin under my wing, you know. He's my little brother, after all, and I couldn't have him starting his first year at college completely lost and alone…" (1)

Ryoma wasn't quite sure how he did it, but Eiji managed to get the taller Momo in a patronizing head lock and was currently occupied in giving the nineteen year-old an affectionate noogie.

"Eiji-senpai, I didn't actually…" Of course, Eiji interrupted whatever Momo had been about to say, still keeping him in the head lock.

"Anyway, we've only been rooming together a few months."

"Ah, I see. So you're not like a married couple?" Ryoma tried to sound innocent.

"You're teasing us!" Eiji exclaimed, looking appalled. "Really, Ochibi, you're as bad as Fuji! And I'll have you know that I have a _girlfriend_!"

"You do?" Ryoma couldn't help sounding surprised, though he couldn't quite explain why the possibility hadn't occurred to him.

"Yeah, _another_ one…" Momo mumbled, also catching Ryoma's attention. He seemed almost annoyed about something, Ryoma thought, but what could…

"What was that, Momo?" Eiji inquired threateningly.

"Nothing, Eiji-senpai." Momo just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do have a girlfriend," Eiji continued, after shooting one last glare in Momo's direction. "And she would be shocked to hear you say such things, Ochibi!"

There was that feeling again. It was really starting to bother Ryoma, but he didn't want to think about the cause of that sinking feeling, that ugly worry somewhere in the back of his mind…

"What IS all that racket down there?" a voice demanded from the stairway, breaking into the conversation. "Takashi, it's two o'clock in the morning!"

"Ah, sorry, Mom!" Taka answered somewhat loudly. "They were just leaving!"

He turned back to his friends, shrugging almost sheepishly. "Sorry about that, guys. Looks like I'll have to lock up now."

"Oh, it's okay, Taka-san," Eiji said, suddenly sounding much calmer than he had upon entering the restaurant. It sounded almost bizarre to Ryoma's unaccustomed ears. "It's late, anyway."

"Sorry about intruding, Kawamura-senpai," Momo added. "We'll see you later, okay?"

Taka nodded. "Call me if anything's going on. You know…"

Whatever the sushi chef-in-training had been about to say, went unsaid. He just shook his head.

"Well, call me," he concluded with a smile, glancing at both Eiji and Momo in turn.

"We will," Eiji assured him, waving goodbye with a small, understated gesture. And with that, he turned and walked out the door, with Momo following close behind.

Ryoma looked unsure as to what he should be doing, but he was prevented from figuring it out for himself by the feeling of Taka's hand on his shoulder.

"Go ahead, Echizen," he said. "It's okay. It's you, after all."

Instead of giving him time to make sense of those cryptic words, Taka gave the teenager a very slight push toward the door. Ryoma looked back, but Taka was already getting to work again, cleaning off the tables.

With that, Ryoma walked out into the cool night air and found himself standing right next to his two senpais. He suddenly felt almost awkward, an emotion that up until that point had been completely unknown to him.

"So, Ochibi, where are you staying?" Eiji asked as soon as Ryoma had shut the door behind him.

"Staying---?" Ryoma repeated. "Oh. It's this hotel near the airport. I don't remember the name…"

"Okay. Well… Maybe we can see you again tomorrow?" Eiji looked at Momo suggestively.

"Yeah, sure," Ryoma agreed, wondering for the thousandth time what all these looks meant. After all, didn't his senpais know that the only reason he'd come back in the first place was to see them? Why were they even asking?

"How about you come by our apartment in the morning?" offered Eiji, digging in his pocket for a pen. "We'll go out to lunch somewhere, or something."

"There's a definite plan for you," Momo chuckled.

"I don't see you offering any suggestions, Momo-chin," Eiji retorted, taking Ryoma's slender hand and scribbling something on it. Ryoma flinched a little, not so much from the sudden gesture as from the tickle of the pen across his skin. It seemed like Eiji was writing a lot…

"Okay, that's the address. It's the second floor, third door to your right. See you tomorrow!" Eiji gave one last wave, grabbed Momo by the arm, and started walking down the street with his roommate in tow.

"Bye, Echizen!" was all Momo said, but he looked back at Ryoma for a moment before turning to Eiji to protest at being dragged along like a suitcase.

Ryoma meant to say something, but he didn't know what to say. Instead, he raised his hand hesitantly, in a kind of half-wave, almost not realizing what he was doing. He lowered his hand again, glancing down to read what was written there. Sure enough, it wasn't just an address…

_904 W. Central (Apt. #207)_

_Thanks for coming back, Ochibi._

He knew it. It hadn't been his imagination after all. But it wasn't like him to be bothered by nothing. No, he'd seen it for sure. He'd seen it on his senpai's face, as plain as day.

The thing that had been bothering him?

That smile on Eiji's face…

That smile was fake.

And Momo and Taka both knew it, too.

"Kikumaru-senpai," he whispered. "What are you trying to hide?"

**-end of chapter four-

* * *

**

**Footnote:** (1) There are two separate anime references in these sentences. First, the "Momo-chin" nickname is a pet name Eiji actually used in episode 56. I thought it was cute, so I had him use it again. Second, the "little brother" phrase refers to an episode during the camping arc (it's either 111 or 112, I think) where Eiji randomly declares that Momo is his "little brother." He uses a word that's actually mafia slang, which I find amusing. I think it's 'shotai' or maybe 'shotei'? I've forgotten the spelling. I usually try not to use Japanese words in fanfics because it gets confusing (and I only know a few words!). But if I do, I promise I'll use a footnote.

_A/N: I'm so sorry that it took me so long to post this chapter! This past week was my first week at college, and things were crazy. But I'm so happy I was finally able to finish it! Finally most of the set-up exposition is out of the way, along with a couple of interesting surprises having to do with the tennis club… Don't worry! All shall be explained in time. I really will tie up all these strange loose ends._

_In the meantime, these chapters are getting more and more fun to write. I just hope you all are having fun reading them. **Please let me know what you thought of chapter four! **And go ahead and scold me for keeping you waiting, if you like. Seriously, my bad… I'm already working on chapter five, though, so you won't be waiting too long for the next one! Promise!_

_**Coming Up Next:** You'll be going straight to the source of the angst, as well as to an entirely different continent, to meet a certain threesome that's been at the center of attention in this fanfic. Yup, Tezuka, Fuji, and Oishi are finally getting some face time! Plus, Ryoma visits Eiji and Momo's apartment._


	5. Chapter 5: Calling on You

**Chapter Five: Calling On You**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Which sucks.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter five! Have fun! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Tezuka makes flamers run laps. **Lol.

Wow, thanks so much to all of my reviewers! And to all of you out there who don't have accounts, but are reading anyway. I love you all, and I really appreciate your patience with me. Especially big thanks to **Iruka-chan2**, whose review for chapter 4 absolutely floored me. I'm so honored! (bows low) I hope the story is all you could hope for! I'm getting a little nervous, though. I sure have lots of people who are very passionate about who Ryoma will end up with. Whoo boy... Well, I can't give that away yet, but I'm thrilled that people even care! So thanks, very much, all of you! Enjoy the much-deserved chapter, and **let me know what you think**. Thanks so much, everyone:)

* * *

_I was a rock that was split into two._

_I am an angel that has fallen from grace._

_I will be a liar who always hides behind a mask._

_That is who I was. Who I am. Who I will be._

_Can you stop me from splitting? From falling? From hiding?_

_Can you save me?_

…

A black-haired, mild-mannered young man looked outside the tiny window that was now his only glimpse into the outside world. All he could see was a gaping black darkness, which had been the only thing outside that window for the past hour. He knew that somewhere far above his head was an entire channel of water, but it was a fact that didn't quite register in his brain, somehow. Either way, it wasn't particularly important.

It especially wasn't important, given that he'd already made this particular trip dozens of times in the past year alone. Still, no matter how many times he took the train underneath the English Channel en route to France, he remained painfully aware that the trip was almost surreal, like a complete disconnect from reality.

A complete disconnect from reality.

The more he thought about it, the more Oishi Shuichiroh decided that phrase described his whole state of existence at that exact moment in time.

He was a student at the prestigious Oxford University, but that fact was just something that he mentioned in conversations. He lived it merely as a detached person might watch a silent film, only vaguely comprehending that it was even happening in the first place.

And outside of his life as a student, he was nothing.

But it was better than being connected with reality, really. At least, it was better than the reality he was trying to forget, the one he had left behind the instant he'd accepted the scholarship to study abroad.

Yes, anything was better than that. Even a black and white film that melted into darkness when he looked outside the window.

Oishi shifted in his seat, putting a hand to his chest hesitantly. There was that thrumming again. His heartbeat had gotten into a rather unpleasant habit of shifting pace at random lately, a habit that Oishi already knew was linked to the pitch black liquid shimmering in the cup in front of him.

_I really need to lay off the caffeine._

His train of thought was interrupted by a beeping sound. His hands fingered his cell phone, flipping it open with a smooth gesture. His eyes ran over the text on the screen.

_A message?_

He put the phone to his ear, after dialing the number for his voice-mail. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to hear, but he was decidedly disappointed by the mundane request from a college buddy for copies of class notes.

_I don't know why I keep thinking it could be from him._

Even if that particular message had been disappointing, Oishi couldn't help thinking of another phone call he'd just received that had literally jolted him out of his disconnected existence…

"_Hello? This is Oishi."_

"_Oishi-senpai, I'm so glad you picked up!"_

"_Momo? Why are you calling? Isn't it three in the morning over there?"_

"_Oishi-senpai, you'll never believe what's happened. Not in a million years!"_

Oishi decidedly frowned, remembering the conversation that had followed. It was good news, of course. It was good news for Momo, and for Taka, and for everyone else back at home. Yes, it was a good thing that Ryoma had come back to Japan, even if it had taken him five years, even if it was out of the blue.

But what it meant for those he had decided to confront with the news, he couldn't say. It could mean a complete disaster, if Fuji reacted the way Oishi figured he would…

Either way, he knew it was something that Tezuka should know. And there was only one way to find Tezuka, and he wasn't about to play games over the phone with the only person who would know his current location.

No, he was going to Paris on the morning express, and that was that.

But really, he didn't know why he felt, somewhere deep inside, that this news could change something. Nothing was going to change. Especially not for Oishi himself.

_No, there's nothing for me now but this disconnect._

_But that was my choice._

Oishi Shuichiroh sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He tried to remember what that face used to look like… that passionate twelve-year-old with those golden eyes that were so much like Tezuka's.

- - - - - - -

"Love is the most beautiful of all the deathless gods."

Slim, elegant fingers slid across a smooth page of text, tracing the black ink slowly, as if revealing a pattern.

"He makes men weak, he overpowers the clever mind, and tames the spirit in the breasts of men and gods."

A frustrated sigh came from a pair of pale lips, and two delicate hands closed the book tightly.

"Love makes men weak, hmm?"

Two strikingly blue eyes opened wide and then narrowed as the mouth repeated the thought.

"That's true enough… but it isn't true for gods."

Fuji Shusuke threw the book aside and got up from the chair in which he'd been reading his philosophy homework. He rarely did his assignments in any case, and he wasn't about to pore over such an absurd text, especially not one that irritated him for reasons even he could hardly explain.

"Hesiod, huh? Much he knows about gods." His expression was almost disgusted, as if he'd just had a taste of something that he had forgotten he hated. He paced around his cluttered desk, lapsing into a darkened train of thought that remained unspoken.

He was startled out of his stormy reverie, however, by the sound of a phone ringing.

"Hello?" he said into the receiver, with that voice that sounded like liquid silk.

He listened for a moment, his temporary smile fading back into a frown.

"Oh, Oishi. I didn't expect you'd be calling."

Another pause.

"You're where? Why did you come here all of a sudden? I thought you had that summer seminary."

Suddenly his eyes opened wide.

"What did you say? … I see. How… unexpected. No, he's here. Yes, I know. Don't say that. Fine, you can come here, if that's what you're asking. Alright, soon."

With that, Fuji hung up the phone again, and his expression became completely unreadable, even to the silent shadows that danced among the sunlight pouring through the window.

"I can't believe he finally came back." Something like a smirk slid across his lips, but his eyes betrayed a more conflicted state of mind. A hint of regret had clouded over that sharp cerulean blue in his eyes, dimming their light for an instant.

"What poor timing you have, Echizen," he finally murmured, softly, as if afraid of breaking something.

"It's too late for that, after all."

- - - - - - -

Echizen Ryoma looked at the door one more time. He looked down at his hand, pausing to read the scrawl again. He looked up again at the plate on the door. He looked back down at his hand.

Yes, this was definitely the place. This was the address for Eiji and Momo's apartment.

So why was no one answering the door?

Sighing, he tried knocking one more time. He was starting to wonder if his friends' neighbors would know he was in the hallway sooner than they would.

"Kikumaru-senpai!" he called, attempting to project his voice through the door. "Momo-sen---"

He was interrupted by the door swinging wide open right in front of his face, and by the rather unexpected sight of Momo in nothing but his boxers.

"M-Momo-senpai---?" he started to say, more as an involuntary response than anything else.

"EIJI-SENPAI!" Momo was ignoring Echizen entirely for the moment, his head turned back inside the apartment as he yelled at the top of his lungs. "YOU SHOULD SAY SOMETHING WHEN YOU CAN'T ANSWER THE DOOR!"

"WHAT---?" was the equally loud response, somewhat muffled.

"I _SAID_, YOU SHOULD SAY SOMETHING WHEN YOU WANT ME TO ANSWER THE DOOR!"

"I'M IN THE SHOWER, YOU MORON! WHAT DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO DO, ANSWER THE DOOR COMPLETELY NAKE---"

"I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE IN THE SHOWER!" Momo hollered, interrupting his senpai's rant. He finally turned his head back toward Echizen and said, in a voice that was almost unrecognizable from the one he had just been using, "Hey, Echizen! Come on in!"

Ryoma wasn't sure whether he should be shocked at his friend's disheveled appearance, amazed by the powerful demonstration of vocal chords he'd just witnessed, or simply nonchalant and take the whole thing as a matter of course.

He decided in the end to do as was suggested and just enter the apartment.

"Sorry about the mess," Momo apologized as he walked back through the tiny hallway that led to the front room. "We haven't cleaned much."

"No kidding," was Ryoma's only comment as he gazed at the various piles of debris spread across what he guessed had once served as furniture. He could identify some of the objects as books, articles of clothing, and various household items. But as to what some of those things were, or had once been, he wasn't sure he wanted to discover.

With surprising speed, Momo swept nearly everything off of what became a couch and a few chairs, and gestured toward the former. "You can sit down, if you want. I'll be back in a second."

"Um… alright," consented Ryoma, still feeling somewhat disconcerted by the fact that he was conversing with a friend wearing nothing but his underwear. The discomfort lessened when Momo disappeared down a side passageway, but Ryoma couldn't help wondering for a split second if his senpai had always had such toned muscles.

He interrupted his own train of thought and started looking around the apartment. Besides the obvious mess, he began to notice some things that surprised him. One was the presence of several tennis magazines spread out on a coffee table in front of him, all of which had photos of himself on the cover. Another was the presence of a litter box in a corner by the kitchenette.

And then there was that collection of photographs on a shelf directly across from where he was sitting. He squinted at them, unable to quench his curiosity as to what they might be, until he finally got up from the couch and walked toward the shelf.

What he saw made him stand completely still, entranced by the images.

There, right in front of his eyes, was a visual timeline of the past five years, and of years before he had even met his friends, captured between sheets of paper and glass. There were pictures of his senpais when they had been twelve, looking no bigger than Ryoma had felt when standing among them during his first year of middle school. And there were also a few pictures from the times he could remember, including a copy of that one photo… It was the photo from the day they had climbed that mountain together and watched the sun come up. He still had that particular photo himself, and he smiled for a moment at the memory.

But the other photos were what really caught his attention.

There were pictures of some of his senpais in blue and black tennis uniforms, standing for what Ryoma guessed must have been team photos for high school. There were also several shots of his former teammates in various places he recognized, but those teammates looked almost like strangers to his unaccustomed eyes. And one particular image simply wouldn't let him look away once he noticed it.

It was a picture of three young men standing against the railing of what appeared to be a boat or ferry of some kind. They were looking into the sun, with the sea at their backs, and all three of them were smiling… But each of their smiles was very different.

And Ryoma got the sudden feeling that each of those smiles held a certain kind of pain.

On the left was Oishi, former vice captain of the Seigaku junior high tennis club. He was older now, and Ryoma thought he noticed a kind of weariness in his senpai's face that was unfamiliar to him. One of Oishi's arms was lying across the railing, with his hand disappearing behind the middle figure's back. His other hand was hidden in his pocket. His head was turned slightly away from the camera, as if he'd been distracted by something a moment before, but his eyes were staring straight at the lens. Those eyes seemed strangely dull to Ryoma, looking almost colorless and nothing like the green eyes that he remembered. Oishi's smile was quiet, but almost tense, as if he was painfully aware of something he didn't like and was trying to hide it for the moment.

On the right was Fuji, Ryoma realized, and the mere sight of what the tensai of his memory had become would have been enough to startle anyone. Ryoma didn't know much about aesthetics or beauty, but even he could recognize that Fuji had become stunningly attractive within the space of five years. His senpai was leaning with his elbows on the railing, which would have made anyone but Fuji look extremely relaxed and casual. The tensai, however, taking this position, looked as grand as a marble statue and as graceful as a model. His head was slightly tilted to one side, but his eyes, as always, were hidden by his eyelids, which Ryoma remembered the tensai using as something like a mask to hide his expression. The way Fuji's good looks in a still photograph already demanded immediate admiration made Ryoma wonder what his senpai must look like with those shockingly blue eyes open, much less closed. But even in his awe at his former teammate's appearance, Ryoma thought he noticed that Fuji's smile held a kind of ironic bitterness, as though he was painfully aware that all the good looks in the world couldn't get him just anything he wanted.

The last figure that Ryoma looked at, the one in the middle, was the one that he recognized with the least difficulty. That was Tezuka, former captain of Seigaku, the man who had soundly defeated Ryoma and forced him to take his tennis to a whole new level during junior high. At the mere sight of the person that had constantly remained somewhere in the back of his mind for five long years, Ryoma felt his heart speed up. Tezuka had hardly changed at all. He was still that imposing, handsome figure from junior high, taller than his two companions, with a face that demanded respect. But upon a closer look, Ryoma found that there was something about this picture of the captain that didn't make sense to him. He stood, as one might have expected, completely straight, with his arms folded. That much was just like before. His eyes had taken ahold of the light and gleamed behind two glinting lenses. That, too, was exactly like Ryoma remembered. And his smile, such as it was, was slight and firm, as if it was a deep regret for him to be compelled to smile at all. Even this seemed to fit with Ryoma's memories of the imposing captain he had known.

But what was that look behind those eyes? There was something in Tezuka's expression that wasn't right. It wasn't like Tezuka at all. It was in his face, too, now that Ryoma thought about it. And he thought he saw it even in the captain's posture, in the way he was crossing those arms, in the way he was standing so straight.

And now that he noticed it, that thing he couldn't quite recognize, the entire figure that had been Tezuka Kunimitsu looked nothing like him at all.

But what was that thing?

It was… it was…

"Sorry about the wait, Echizen!" A voice startled Ryoma out of his thoughts. He turned to see a more properly-dressed Momo coming out of the side passage. He was closely followed by Eiji, who was still drying his hair with a towel but was nevertheless also suitably clothed.

"It's okay," Ryoma replied, shrugging a little. He felt almost dazed, as though for a moment he had been somewhere else, far away.

"Hey, Ochibi, what were you---?" Eiji came up alongside Ryoma, but one glance toward the shelf answered his own question. Momo, too, seemed to instantly understand what had been gripping Ryoma's attention for the past few minutes.

"It's a good photo, isn't it?" he said quietly, staring at the picture for a moment. Ryoma stared with him, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yes…" he agreed slowly, unsure what to say. He wanted to say something, wanted to ask something… But he couldn't find the words.

It was Eiji who broke the silence, sounding almost strangely lighthearted.

"So, where do you guys want to go for lunch?"

Momo decidedly frowned, Ryoma noticed, but only for an instant before he answered in an equally cheerful voice, "I've got something of an idea. Want to go right now?"

"Sure," Ryoma replied finally, noticing that there was clearly something strange in the way his friends regarded the picture. He decided not to mention it for the moment, thinking that it would be better to ask about it later.

"Let's go, then!" Eiji exclaimed, with a wide gesture that indicated it was time to exit the apartment.

And with that, the three left the photograph behind, which had just begun to catch the light that was streaming through a nearby window. The gleam that shone across the glass gave the picture an almost ethereal look for a moment, one that concealed the three faces in a sheer brightness. And then, almost as instantly, the gentle breeze outside made the light shift behind some tree branches, and the picture was enveloped in shadow.

- - - - - - -

Fuji had slipped into a blank trance, thinking of something that was almost nothing, when he was startled by the sound of a bell. He stopped pacing aimlessly around the front room and went to answer the door, looking almost expectant.

"Ah, Oishi, it's you," he said, sounding rather disappointed.

"Yes," was all that his former classmate offered in response as he passed through the doorway. With a certain level of familiarity, Oishi set his travel bag aside and started looking around the room, as if studying it.

"You don't look well," Fuji mentioned offhandedly, an almost smug look on his face.

"You say that every time you see me," was Oishi's curt answer. He started walking around the apartment purposefully, glancing toward a cupboard by the dining area. He began fiddling around with the doors, opening and closing them, as though searching for something. In the process, he sniffed once or twice, like he smelled something in the air.

"You look worse every time I see you," retorted Fuji, even though he guessed, correctly, that Oishi wasn't listening by this point.

Oishi reached into one of the higher compartments and pulled out a small bottle.

"Fuji, you know what I told you before. You have to stop," he said, every word full of a sharp kind of significance.

The tensai rolled his eyes, which had remained open the entire time, in all their shining blue glory.

"And you say that every time you come here," was Fuji's only reply, said with the slightest toss of his head. Every gesture suggested nothing but the highest disdain towards Oishi's scolding.

"Besides," he continued. "That's just how it is. That's why you live in England and why I live in Paris. And I get along just fine, I might add… unlike _some_ people."

The last phrase was said with the most pointed kind of emphasis as Fuji stared right into Oishi's eyes. The former vice captain met his stare for a moment, but he looked away quickly.

"I get along just fine myself. And I don't need liquor and cigarettes to do it."

"Really?" Fuji was certainly smirking now, with the most beautifully diabolic look on his face. "You aren't forgetting your caffeine addiction, are you?"

He took several steps toward Oishi and grabbed him by the wrist, but Oishi didn't even flinch.

"You must have had a double shot on your way over," was Fuji's sarcastic comment. "Your hand's shaking."

There was a moment of silence, a painful moment full of something they both already understood.

"You know why," Oishi said at last.

"And _you_ know why."

With that, Fuji released his colleague's arm and walked away, looking almost frustrated.

"You're here to tell him, aren't you?" was Fuji's question after a minute ticked away.

"Yes." Oishi was shutting the cabinet slowly, as though he didn't notice himself doing it. "I figured you probably wouldn't tell him, even if I asked you to."

There was a strange laugh from Fuji, one that sounded startlingly tense, perhaps even faintly maniacal.

"You're probably right."

His mood changed instantly, and the face of Fuji Shusuke became dark, even angry.

"Well, it _will_ ruin everything. But I'll let you tell him, not that you'd give me a choice, of course."

Before Oishi could respond, there was the sudden sound of a door opening. They both looked to see a tall figure coming through the doorway slowly, as if very tired.

"Tezuka," they both said at once, the tension in the room momentarily forgotten.

The former captain of Seigaku looked at Oishi, and then Fuji. And then, just as slowly, Tezuka Kunimitsu closed the door behind him, and sighed.

**- end of chapter five -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** I'm not sure what the standard is for this sort of thing, but during Fuji's first scene, he quotes from Hesiod's _The Theogeny_. (Hesiod was from ancient Greece and wrote all about the gods from mythology.) So, yeah, that's not mine, lol.

_A/N: Aw, man, it's another cliffhanger! I'm so evil! XD Sorry about that, you guys! But the next chapter will be up around the beginning of this weekend. I promise! My goal is to release at least two chapters over Labor Day weekend, since you guys have been so amazing (and I feel bad torturing you with the suspense!). This chapter was a challenge to write, but it was fun. I might note that I'm trying desperately to keep these three characters, err, in character, even though all three of them have been through a lot since Ryoma left. Let me know if I fail horribly at that at any point, lol. And if you still have no clue what's going on, fear not! I promise it'll make sense sooner or later! … Err, hopefully sooner. The best news? Some actual character interaction is coming up. Really! I promise! XD And… if anyone reading this thought I was trying to make Fuji sound evil… I'm sorry! I love Fuji! Really! You'll get an explanation soon._

_Well, I hope you enjoyed it, and **let me know what you thought of chapter five!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** Tezuka finds out about the news that Echizen has returned to Japan, and makes a decision. Meanwhile, Ryoma confronts Eiji and Momo about what happened while he was away. Finally, it's time to introduce the last two Regulars who haven't shown up yet!_


	6. Chapter 6: Move Forward and Rewind

**Chapter Six: Move Forward and Rewind**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Boo-hoo.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter six! Enjoy! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Ryoma thinks flamers are "mada mada dane." **Lol.

Aww, you guys are all so sweet! Thanks so much to all my wonderful reviewers. Every time I post a new chapter, I'm more and more amazed at how many people have stayed with the story so far. Wow. And the comments were so cute this time around! I loved them! (Especially **chibiukyou**! XD Thanks for your funny dialogue… I was dying with laughter! Now if only I could write a crack fanfic like that…) I just wish I could respond to all the reviews and personally tell you all how great you are. But you'd rather read the fanfic, right? Well, in that case, read on and enjoy! **Let me know what you think of the new chapter, everyone!**

* * *

_Why did I run away?_

_Why did I lose everything I ever was, in favor of a broken promise?_

_I think it was… No, I know it was…_

_It was because I was sure that you'd come and find me someday._

…

Tezuka sighed, a long, quiet sigh that seemed as though it came from somewhere deep inside his thoughts. His eyes looked distant, as if he was looking at something miles away that he could never hope to reach. He hardly noticed Fuji and Oishi's synchronized greeting.

Oishi saw that look on Tezuka's face, and it made him almost eager to say what he had come to tell him… But Fuji started talking before he could even begin.

"So, how was it?" Fuji came up alongside Tezuka, eyes wide open and sparking with sky blue fire. "Was it hard to find? I'm sorry to send you on an errand like that…"

"It was no trouble," Tezuka said shortly, handing Fuji a package. He meant to pull away just as quickly, but the tensai firmly clasped his hands over both the package and Tezuka's fingers, keeping him from moving away.

"Thank you, Tezuka," Fuji said, every word full of the most insistent kind of meaning.

"You're welcome." Tezuka didn't mean to sound angry, but he couldn't quite look at those blue eyes without a chill going up his spine. It frustrated him.

"Tezuka," Oishi said suddenly, taking a few steps forward. The former captain looked up then, startled. He hadn't really comprehended the fact that Oishi was standing in Fuji's apartment, but the sound of that sincere voice was a welcome surprise that he hadn't expected.

"Oishi," was all he said in reply, but Fuji could see him relax at the sight of his friend. The tensai couldn't help frowning at the change.

"Tezuka, I'm sorry to show up out of the blue like this," Oishi began somewhat hesitantly, noticing Fuji's displeasure.

Tezuka just shook his head and walked up to Oishi, ignoring the other person in the room. "You know I don't mind. But I thought you had a seminar."

"I did, but I had to come here and tell you myself…" Oishi felt his voice trail off. This was no good at all. No matter what Fuji thought, he had to say it. Didn't he? He tried to continue.

"Tezuka…"

He looked at the slightly puzzled face in front of him, and he knew he had to say it.

…

"_I'll come back, Buchou. I promise."_

…

"Echizen is back in Japan," Oishi said.

…

Drowning.

Tezuka couldn't remember the days before he knew how to swim, but this was what it must have felt like. Five words, and he was swimming in all the memories of the past that he'd long since locked away somewhere in his mind. Five words, and he couldn't breathe. He was drowning.

Oishi could see that Tezuka wasn't about to say anything aloud, but he knew his friend well enough not to need a verbal response. He could see the reply behind those lenses, and it was full of emotion, the kind that Tezuka would never express out loud.

So Oishi continued, as gently as he could.

"I got a call from Momo this morning," he explained. "It was very sudden. They only just found out about it yesterday. Taka has seen him too. It seems… It seems he expected to see all of us there."

"Really?" Fuji interrupted suddenly, startling the other two. "So he really didn't know after all."

They didn't have to ask what Fuji meant by that. Of course they knew.

"Well, that's just like him, I suppose," the tensai continued, waving his hand as though it was to be expected. "The poor boy always was a little dense."

"Fuji…" Oishi tried to object, but Fuji keep talking in a light, airy voice, taking out a cigarette and lighting it casually.

"Now, now, Oishi, don't get all worked up. I didn't mean it in a bad way. He's a gem, really, of course. After all, that's what all the magazines are saying, aren't they?" Fuji smirked ironically. "He's supposed to be quite the looker, isn't he?"

He brought the cigarette to his pale lips and breathed in, letting the smoke out again slowly.

"I wonder if he's still as pure as the driven snow," he chuckled.

A flash of light came into Tezuka's eyes, and he turned his head, meeting Fuji's stare without flinching. That glare seemed almost to delight Fuji Shusuke, and he continued, talking a little faster but with just as much meaning.

"You know, it would be interesting to find out. And just think of how entertaining it would be to become the ultimate source of jealousy for all those raving fangirls…"

"You wouldn't dare," Tezuka said coldly, eyes smoldering. It was a statement, not an assumption.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Fuji almost sang, his expression threatening. "And why not? Could it be because Tezuka Kunimitsu would be jealous too? But the question is… jealous of _whom_?"

Tezuka took three infuriated steps toward him, hand pulling backwards ready to strike, when Fuji breathed a puff of smoke straight into his face and changed the subject entirely.

"Say, Oishi? By any chance, do you know where our illustrious and honorable captain was this past week?"

Fuji Shusuke was intensely conscious of his own cruelty, and he stared straight at his target, searching intently for the effect it would have on him.

Tezuka's face slipped back into a blank, and he let his raised hand drop to his side, but there was still something of that spark deep in his eyes.

"No, I don't," Oishi answered slowly, looking confused. "Why?"

"Tell him, Tezuka," Fuji urged with a suppressed laugh, walking over to an ashtray and tapping the cigarette on the rim. Tezuka just watched the tensai, standing as still as a statue.

"It's not important," Tezuka finally replied, annoyed. "I was in Switzerland."

"Ah, not important!" Fuji absolutely cackled. "Oh, come now, Tezuka. He'd be so furious to hear you say that! No, Oishi, that's not all there is to it. You see, I consented to let Atobe borrow Tezuka during vacation, and that's where he was, to be precise… at the Atobe family vacation home in the Alps."

"You went to see Atobe?" Oishi asked Tezuka, genuinely surprised.

"I did," confirmed Tezuka to Oishi, though his stare was still firmly fixated on the tensai, who now seemed only interested in his cigarette and was ignoring them both.

"It _wasn't_ that important," he continued pointedly. "It was just a visit for old time's sake."

Even though Tezuka said that, in reality it had been nothing of the kind.

…

"_You're a failure, Tezuka. Do you know how deeply you've disappointed me? You're not the man you once were. And he would be disappointed, too. No, I say that, but the truth is, he wouldn't just be disappointed. He'd be devastated. It's such a shame, really. You could have followed him, you know."_

…

"It wasn't important," Tezuka repeated, almost whispering. He was lying through his teeth and he knew it. But what could he say? That those words had stung him, that they'd pierced him like a knife through his chest? No, there was no use admitting it. There was no use in denying it, either. There was just… no use for it.

And that was why, even if Atobe was right, Tezuka couldn't do anything about it.

It was just no use anymore…

… Was it?

_Liar. You're such a liar._

He heard the words inside his head, swimming inside the memories like a separate train of thought. But who was saying them? The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it…

And so he pushed the words away, out of his mind, just like he did now with all the things that threatened to tear him apart. It was so natural to him by this point that it was easy to forget the pain those words held.

"Tezuka," Oishi spoke up quietly, a saddened expression on his face. "I only came here to tell you what I heard, and, well… I think I should go now."

To Tezuka's surprise, Oishi walked over to the door and picked up his travel bag, slinging it over one shoulder. He reached out and started twisting the doorknob…

"Wait, Oishi---!" Tezuka suddenly blurted out, attracting even Fuji's attention. Tezuka never spoke awkwardly like that. Oishi stood completely still, staring, waiting, confused.

For a moment, Tezuka thought he was somewhere else again, some place far away, standing in front of someone else waiting so expectantly for an explanation. An explanation for something he could never excuse, for something that could not be forgiven or forgotten…

He swallowed, hard, trying to find the words he wanted to say, somewhere deep inside him. And for a moment, he let all those things that he had locked away torment him. Yes, that was what he had to say. No, that was what he had to do.

There was no avoiding it anymore.

"I want to go back."

Fuji crushed the burning end of his cigarette between two fingertips, not even flinching. His icy stare was locked on Tezuka, devouring the figure of the former captain like a tiger tearing apart its prey.

_You fool. Who do you think you are? _

_Have you forgotten, Tezuka? Have you forgotten why you left?_

_I swear I won't let you forget._

_Not on your life, Captain._

"Really?" was all Fuji said, donning his infamous mask for the first time in the conversation. His eyes shut and the corners of his mouth tipped upward. "You're going back? Just to see Echizen? Well, that's interesting. I wonder what his eyes would look like now, full of tears…"

As though that were a conclusive statement and not an unfinished thought, Fuji turned his back on his guests and began to walk out of the room.

"Fuji, what are you saying?" Oishi demanded, tense. He felt torn. He didn't know whether he was happy or afraid at what Tezuka had said, but he certainly didn't like the voice Fuji was starting to use. No, he'd heard that voice before, and he knew the pain it had brought Tezuka already…

Tezuka only stared at the tensai's back, helpless. He already knew what Fuji was going to say. He could hear it echoing loudly in his mind, even before he began.

"You know he'll cry when he finds out why you don't carry a racquet anymore. God knows I hardly blame him. Poor thing…"

Oishi saw the light go out of Tezuka's eyes then. He saw it, right in front of him… He saw that imposing figure become a hollow shell, with no inner nobility, and no resistance to the defacing of his own will.

He saw it. Just like that time, just over a year ago…

And he could still hear that same voice in the background. The voice that had lured his friend into falling to pieces… Yes, that was the source of the nightmare that Tezuka had told him once, in a broken tone…

A beautifully cruel voice, like a white rose wrought with thorns…

"I would cry myself if I still believed in you like he does. Of course, I'm not such a fool. I can see what you've become. I can see it, and when he sees it too, then where will you be? On a one-way flight back to Germany? You'll return only to run away again, hmm? What an interesting thought, Tezuka…"

…

"_I HATE YOU!"_

…

Oishi's hands were shaking, but he just dismissed it as a minor side effect from the coffee he'd been drinking. It had been a double shot, after all… it was no wonder his hands couldn't stop shaking… and anyway he had to say it, for Tezuka's sake, to end this nightmare…

"I'll go back too," he said.

Even his voice was shaking. Honestly, what was wrong with him? This was stupid. It would be fine. He knew everything would be just fine… everything would be fine…

"Oishi?"

Tezuka just stared at his friend, shocked. Even Fuji whirled around, eyes wide open.

"What did you say?"

"I said, I'll go back too," Oishi repeated finally, after clearing his throat. His voice was firmer now, but very quiet and full of tension. "I'll go with you, Tezuka. I mean, if you want company."

…

"_I HATE YOU! JUST… GO AWAY! GO AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK!"_

…

The black and white film was rewinding, faster and faster, the grainy scenes flashing by so quickly that Oishi felt as though he'd lost his footing and was falling down a thousand miles a second…

"I'll go with you," he said again.

Fuji was still, completely frozen in place. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had expected Tezuka's sudden decision. He knew enough about the former captain's state of mind to know what effect the news would have on him…

… But this, this turn of events…

… No, the tensai would not have predicted this. Not now. It should have happened much earlier, if it was going to happen at all…

Well. In that case…

That was that.

"We're all going," Fuji said flatly, as though this was the most natural thing to say after such a disjointed conversation. He turned back around and disappeared through a doorway.

Drowning.

The gigantic wave had crashed upon the shore in full force, and like victims of a fatal hurricane, three figures flailed helplessly in the water, pulled back to the ocean again and again until breathing was impossible.

- - - - - - -

For the thousandth time, a short clip of a young man serving a tennis ball replayed on a somewhat dim television screen.

It caught the attention of the only person standing in the perfectly clean living room. The man walked over to the screen, staring intently as the boy's slim body leaned backward, ready to strike, and as it suddenly lurched forward again, racquet sliding across the ball with adroit skill.

He stared, and a strange sound came from his lips. It was like the hiss of a snake, abrupt, almost annoyed.

"That Echizen."

His eyes looked ready to bore two holes into the television screen. His companion couldn't help noticing this as he came out of the kitchen to hand his friend a glass.

"You look tense, Kaidoh."

There was no reply as the shorter of the two took the glass and, not even glancing at the strange color of the liquid inside, took a long draught of the thick concoction.

He frowned, but it wasn't from the questionable taste of the juice. No, he was used to that.

"Senpai."

Inui looked up from his own glass of juice, somewhat surprised. The tone of his companion was one that he hadn't quite heard come from those lips before, and he'd heard more than a few surprising things from him in the past.

"Yes, Kaidoh?"

"I want to see him again," the nineteen-year-old said finally, in a low tone. "That _idiot_ called, didn't he? And that's why he called."

He nodded toward the screen, where Ryoma served the ball for the thousandth-and-one time.

"_He's_ back," Kaidoh finished knowingly, eyes still fixated on the image.

Inui lifted his hand to his face and pushed up his glasses, unable to resist a small smile.

_Just according to my data. 97.8 percent chance of guessing correctly. It never fails when it comes to him, does it?_

_He's so predictable. Of course, that's what I like about him._

_100 percent._

"You want to go back to Tokyo then?" Inui said seriously. "You know who's there."

Kaidoh hissed again at that. Oh, he knew, alright.

"Yes," he replied, setting his glass on the table with a distinct thud. "I know that…"

He felt his hand clench tightly into a fist.

"But I also know that _they'll_ want to come too. When they hear about it, I mean. I'm sure that idiot has blabbed it halfway around the world by now. And that…"

Inui watched his companion start pacing impatiently around the room. He could hear the frustration in Kaidoh's voice.

"You don't want that." Inui couldn't help sounding a little angry himself. "I know. I don't either."

"What are the chances they'll be there already, senpai?" Kaidoh turned to his roommate expectantly.

Inui just sighed. "You know I have no idea. Not anymore. It would be bad enough if it was just Tezuka and Fuji. You know my data about them was always full of holes. But I can't predict any of them now. Not even Oishi…"

"Forget the data, senpai," Kaidoh interrupted suddenly. "Let's just go."

Inui met his roommate's stare, and he couldn't help smiling again. He liked that expression on Kaidoh's face.

"You're right. We'll go."

- - - - - - -

Ryoma brought his straw up to his lips again, taking a long sip of the sugary brown liquid inside. He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling at the moment, but this wasn't quite what he'd been expecting when his senpais had offered to go out to lunch with him.

He was glad to see his senpais again, of course. But he didn't quite like how they were acting, not after all the things he'd heard in the past twenty-four hours.

But it wasn't as though there was anything wrong with how they were acting.

Which, in Ryoma's opinion, was exactly the problem.

He watched Eiji steal another french fry from Momo's tray, mischief sparkling in those dark blue eyes. And he noted Momo's irritation as he discovered that his friend had stolen yet another french fry, and he watched Momo get frustrated and crumple up his straw wrapper into a ball and fling it down the front of Eiji's t-shirt…

"MOMO!" Eiji was really getting annoyed now, still looking for the straw wrapper, which had already fallen down his shirt and onto the floor. He leaned over to pick it up and fling it right back at Momo when…

"Kikumaru-senpai?" Ryoma said suddenly.

"Huh? What is it, Ochibi?" Eiji blinked in surprise. Ryoma hadn't spoken much all morning, and the sudden interruption had startled him.

"Why don't you say it anymore?"

There was a pause.

"Say what, Ochibi?" Eiji looked extremely confused, as did Momo. "Say what, Echizen?"

"You know…" Ryoma trailed off. But their expressions were still completely blank. He sighed, realizing that the only way they'd understand was if he actually said it…

"Nya."

"Aww, you're so cute, Ochibi!" Eiji laughed, enjoying the effect of the famous tennis star being reduced to making cat noises. "Do it again!"

"Kikumaru-senpai!" growled Echizen, annoyed. "You know that's not the point!"

Eiji just giggled, looking more than ready to keep teasing Ryoma about his odd question. Ryoma was starting to think he'd _never_ get any answers out of his stubborn senpais…

"Hey," Momo interrupted suddenly, looking as though he'd just remembered something. "I'll be right back, you guys. I need to grab some cash from that ATM machine."

He got up from the table and hurried out the door, giving his two friends a casual wave before crossing the street. Eiji looked stunned at this turn of events, and then angry. He glared at the back of his roommate through the huge glass windows of the fast food joint.

_That Momo… he did it on purpose…_

"Kikumaru-senpai," Ryoma began again. He didn't like the expression on Eiji's face, but he had to know the truth. "Kikumaru-senpai, please tell me…"

Eiji couldn't look Ryoma in the eyes, but he didn't turn away either.

"Tell you what, Ochibi? What do you want to know?" he said finally, as if surrendering.

"Kikumaru-senpai…" Ryoma hadn't meant to lower his voice, but he found himself speaking softly, almost afraid of asking his question out loud. His senpai, just for a moment, had looked as fragile as glass. It actually scared him, in a way that gripped his heart and wouldn't let go.

Should he even ask…?

"What happened to Oishi-senpai?"

He heard himself say it, and even he was shocked at his own audacity. It was cruel to ask it. It must have been. That look in Eiji's eyes said so. It was the worst kind of cruelty…

And yet Eiji's voice was light, unattached.

"What about Oishi?"

Ryoma was stunned.

Gold was the most precious of all metals. It was malleable. It could bend. It could be hammered into every kind of shape.

But it could not be shattered.

And the Golden Pair was shattered.

Ryoma knew it now. He knew it for sure. Those three words had said it all. They'd spoken of a world of hurt that had led to nothing but apathy.

Eiji had said the name of his former partner perfectly coldly, and with perfect pronunciation. (1)

"Kikumaru-senpai…"

Ryoma's voice betrayed some of the hurt he was feeling, and even Eiji was surprised.

"Ochibi, what's wrong?" Those blue eyes held nothing but innocent confusion. And that much was just like Eiji. But then why was nothing else like him? Why was the spitfire redhead of Ryoma's memory who tackled him daily, and grinned like a maniac, and made noises like a cat, and jumped around and called his partner 'Tasty,' of all the crazy, stupid things…

Why was he _gone?_

"Kikumaru-senpai, what happened?" he demanded, his voice shaking slightly. He was glaring at his senpai, and he knew it… But he couldn't help it. This was just wrong. Horribly, painfully wrong.

"What happened to Oishi-senpai? And why won't you talk about him? And why, for God's sake, won't you just say 'Oishii,' like you always do? What's _wrong_ with you, Kikumaru-senpai?"

He hadn't realized that it wasn't even a question he was asking anymore. It was an outright rant. But this was ridiculous. Gold didn't shatter. It just _didn't_. And if gold could shatter, well then, in that case why was he even on this stupid little island…?

"Why, Kikumaru-senpai?" His voice sounded strangely loud in his own ears.

The silence that followed was even more painful than the words he'd spoken.

"Why?" Eiji repeated at last. "_Why?_ Why what, Ochibi? Oishi is gone, okay? He's in England, in case you haven't heard. He left over a year ago, you know. And you know what else? It's no big deal, Ochibi. I've talked to him since then. But I don't call him that name anymore. Like it or not, I'm going on twenty years old, and sooner or later, I have to stop using all of those childish nicknames."

"You still call me Ochibi," Ryoma mumbled, trying to calm down.

"Because you're still Ochibi," Eiji said frankly, finally looking Ryoma straight in the eye. "But Oishi isn't 'Oishii' anymore."

"What do you mean by that?" Ryoma snapped.

Eiji stared at his former teammate intently, and spoke slowly, as if he really wanted Ryoma to understand.

"If you saw him now, you'd know what I mean. He's not the person that you're thinking of. Not anymore. And that's why I…"

Eiji had started out bravely, but he was starting to waver now, and he blinked quickly, trying to stop his eyes from watering. After all, he was going on twenty, and he didn't cry anymore.

"Kikumaru-senpai, I'm sorry."

Ryoma had seen those tears, even though his former teammate had quickly blinked them back. Somehow, knowing that it really had hurt Eiji… It brought the pieces of his world back together, and he was able to speak reasonably again.

"But what happened to Oishi-senpai?" he asked again, more gently. "You don't have to answer, Kikumaru-senpai, but still…"

"I wish I knew."

Eiji's answer was perhaps the most surprising news yet. How could he not know what happened to Oishi? Of all people, Eiji should have known.

"I have no idea," Eiji continued, almost as though he was talking to himself. "I have no idea what happened to him. But you know what? He wouldn't look at me anymore by the end. He just… didn't want me around anymore. And I was hurt… I was hurt, and I was angry. I yelled at him when he left. I told him to never come back."

Eiji could still remember that day. He could see Oishi in front of him, telling him it would be alright. That everything was going to be fine.

_Liar._

"I didn't want to see him ever again. But I got over it, I guess," and Eiji shrugged slightly. "Not seeing that look in his eyes everyday… I started to forget how much it hurt. I still wish I knew why he started to hate me, though. But that's just it. I'm sure he must have hated me… Why else would he look at me like that, with those eyes that don't have any light in them, with those eyes that just _stare_ like you're the worst thing in the world and you should just go away and never come back? And so that's what I told him… Never come back."

…

"_I HATE YOU! JUST… GO AWAY! GO AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK!"_

…

"I think I wanted to see him hurt," Eiji murmured. "Just for a second, just so I could see he still cared, you know? But by that time, I couldn't see it anymore. I don't think that even if he _was_ hurt I could have seen it. Not then. We were strangers by then. He'd been like that for months, and I didn't know him anymore. And so… that man… That man is Oishi. 'Oishii' doesn't exist anymore."

Eiji reached out and crumpled a hamburger wrapper in his hand.

"And that's it," he finished decidedly, wadding the paper into a ball and sticking it into the empty french fry container. "That was 'tasty,' right?"

He half-heartedly chuckled at his own pun, getting up from the table and walking over to the trash can. Ryoma watched him shove all of his garbage down the crammed disposal shoot, and then rub his hands together dismissively when he was done.

"Well, that's that," he declared. "Now, we should go find Momo-chin."

"What about me, Eiji-senpai?" Momo asked, suddenly appearing right behind his roommate.

"Oh, you're back?" Eiji responded almost offhandedly. "What took you so long?"

He already knew, of course. But he could be a liar, too. He could be a fake just as much as anyone else could. And of course, everyone else _was_. So he would play along too. He didn't have to be the only transparent one. No, not Kikumaru Eiji…

"Actually, I just got the strangest phone call," Momo answered hesitantly, much to Eiji and Ryoma's surprise.

"A strange phone call? From who?"

It was then that they both noticed how dark Momo's eyes had become.

"From some old friends. They want us to meet them at the train station in an hour."

Eiji glanced at Ryoma, and their eyes met. But it couldn't really be _those_ people…

…Could it?

It was Momo who answered their unspoken question.

"It's Inui-senpai… and _that guy,_ too. They're coming back to Tokyo."

**- end of chapter six –**

**

* * *

Footnote for the Perplexed: **(1) Normally I wouldn't have made such an obscure reference become such a pivotal part of a scene, but I felt it was important here, so I went with it, lol. I'm sure most of you already know about this, but just in case… The whole 'Oishi' vs. 'Oishii' thing is a reference to Eiji's pet name for his partner. Eiji pronounces Oishi's name wrong on purpose and makes it into the Japanese word for 'Tasty,' which I find completely adorable. Hence all the angst about the fact that he doesn't use the nickname anymore, and also the particularly painful pun at the end. :P Personally, I find it very touching and sad, but if you don't, well, I don't blame you, lol. If I wasn't such a PoT nerd, I'd probably just find it darn confusing myself. 

_A/N: Whew! XD Sorry I didn't release this chapter earlier today, but I had a hard time with the first scene and getting the flow just right in a few parts. Oh, and technically today's my birthday, so all afternoon I was out with my friends, lol. But I was thrilled that I was able to finish it tonight, so I hope you all enjoy it! Finally we're getting to some of the angst, and getting closer and closer to a complete Seigaku reunion. And you better believe I'm excited. It's only going to get better. At least, I hope so, anyway! I've got some big plans for this fanfic, so I just hope I'll be able to keep it up until the end. (Lol, did you all like the brief reference to Atobe in this chapter? Yeah, I just couldn't resist giving him a cameo appearance, so to speak. He's such a great character!)_

_Thank you so much for all your encouragement, everyone. It really warms my heart to know that so many people care as much about these characters as I do. Gaahh… I love Seigaku. I really do. Well, **please let me know what you think of the chapter! **And I'll have the next one up by Monday. Yay!_

_**Coming Up Next:** Ryoma comes face to face with two more of his former teammates, and finds himself being warned of an event that is just around the corner…But why are his friends warning him about Tezuka's return? There's an ugly secret that no one's told him yet… a secret about the pillar himself. And the truth is, Ryoma may not be ready to discover it._


	7. Chapter 7: Forewarned

**Chapter Seven: Forewarned**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … WAAHHHH! T.T

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter seven! Yay! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/Momo will Dunk Smash flamers in the head. **Lol.

Wow, again, thanks so much for all the reviews! I really appreciate them. And thanks so much for all the sweet birthday wishes. (Lol, I didn't realize the next morning that I'd mentioned that in the footnote… I was tired, haha… And **chibiukyou:** "The Batmobile!" So funny! XD) By the way, I think now is as good a time as any to sincerely apologize for the fact that the pairings are still kind of in question in this fic… I intended to reveal them much earlier but this story has taken a slightly new direction that, while I can promise will be exciting, has made it necessary to keep it a secret a little longer. Sorry about that! XD If you like it so far, you should be okay. Anyway, as promised, here's the second of two chapters in one weekend! The next chapter should be up around next weekend sometime. Well, enjoy! **Let me know what you think of chapter seven!**

* * *

_They say that it is possible for love and hate to coexist in the same person._

_They say that passionate lovers are also passionate haters._

_They say that, and I didn't believe it…_

_Until I fell for you, and found myself loathing you for it._

…

It was a light, airy, tranquil afternoon in Paris, and the weather just begged for outside activity, out there in the warm sunshine. Nevertheless, there were still those who were perfectly content with staying inside, especially in such a famous city. Museums were everywhere, and art exhibits, of course, were some of the most popular attractions of all. It was in one such exhibit where a young woman approached a large, monochrome piece and simply stared.

"Extraordinary, isn't it?"

She turned, surprised, to see a man behind her, looking very educated and very capable of being unimpressed. But in glancing at the piece behind the woman's head, his eyes held nothing but admiration.

"Oh… yes, it is," she replied somewhat awkwardly. For a moment, she had forgotten where she was, and it had been a shock to realize she was in a exhibit, among many other art admirers like herself.

It was the photograph that had made her forget, she knew. It was indeed extraordinary. It was the kind of piece that was simple, understated, and yet somehow held all the beauty of a bygone era.

The photograph was of a man, looking to be somewhere in his late twenties, although the more the woman tried to guess his age, the more she thought he simply looked ageless. The picture only showed him from the waist upward, and he appeared to be completely naked except for the white sheet carefully draped around his body. His face was refined, maybe even regal, and its handsome features had been what had first demanded the woman's attention. His eyes especially held a kind of electric light in them, a light perfectly captured by the photographer that seemed capable of piercing an onlooker's gaze and seeing through to their very soul.

Yes, the figure of this man, draped in white fabric against a blurred backdrop, was stunningly beautiful. But there was something ugly about it, too. The photograph was carefully arranged to reveal that the figure's left arm was horribly scarred, even mangled.

"It has a dignity I sorely miss in all the modern pieces so popular nowadays," the man spoke up suddenly.

"Indeed it does, monsieur," the woman agreed, taking another step toward it. "Who was the photographer?"

"See for yourself," and the man nodded toward a small placard posted next to the photograph.

She leaned in to read the following inscription…

"_A Fallen God"_

_Photographed by Shusuke Fuji._

"Shusuke Fuji?" she repeated slowly, looking surprised.

"Have you ever heard of him?" the man asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "He's a genius, they say. Attends one of our universities here in Paris, but he's originally from Tokyo, of course. It's amazing that Japan held such a treasure. He's already creating quite a stir in the Parisian photography community, I hear."

The woman listened, still staring up at the picture. After a moment, she couldn't help asking one more question.

"Who is the subject?"

The man shook his head at that, although the woman didn't see it.

"Nobody knows, they say," he finally answered. "Although I have asked the same thing of his professor at the university. He's a friend of mine, but even he wasn't able to give me an answer…"

There was a pause as they both looked at the man in the photograph.

"He's stunning, though, isn't he?" the man added in an almost awestruck tone. "You don't get faces like that anymore. He's got the features of a Roman deity, like one of those marble statues in the Louvre come to life."

The light shifted slightly outside, and a shadow came over the photograph's eyes, but they still held a distinct glimmer in them that cut through the shade.

"Simply extraordinary," repeated the man, shaking his head and walking away.

The woman silently agreed with the assessment, of course. The picture was inarguably beautiful, even a masterpiece. And yet, for her, the photograph also held a profound kind of sadness within its two-dimensional boundaries.

"Perhaps it's the title," she whispered thoughtfully. "'A Fallen God'… Very strange. A reference to his flaw, maybe?"

And she wondered again just what could have happened to the stunning figure's left arm.

- - - - - - - -

Momoshiro and Eiji couldn't stop staring up at it. Really, it was just too weird. They'd seen the ad before, of course, but it became that much more bizarre when the model was standing right next to them.

"Momo-senpai, Eiji-senpai…" Ryoma just sighed. "Will you please stop staring at it?"

"I still can't get over how HUGE it is," Eiji remarked slowly, gaping.

"No kidding…" was Momo's assent.

They were staring up at a billboard positioned right by the train station, an ad that showed a remarkably handsome young man posing with a soda can in his left hand. He was holding the can up next to his face with a picture-perfect smile, looking straight at the camera with the confidence of a star.

"Ochibi grew up so nice," was Eiji's next comment, shaking his head in disbelief. "Really, it should be a crime to be that adorable."

"Well, I hear that's what all the fangirls say," and Momoshiro smirked, nudging Ryoma with one elbow. Ryoma shot back a slightly annoyed glare at his senpai.

"It pays, okay? Otherwise I wouldn't do it," was his objection.

"Aw, Ochibi, don't be so defensive!" Eiji exclaimed with a grin. "You're like a supermodel! Plus, it's an ad for _Ponta_. Just think of that! You're the main spokesperson for Ponta! Who'd have guessed that's where you'd be in five years?"

"Well, it _is_ nice that I get all my soda free now," Ryoma finally admitted, crossing his arms and staring up at the billboard.

There was a pause.

"You… get all your soda free now?" Momo repeated.

"Wow." Eiji blinked, impressed.

"Yeah, well, I don't know… The company kind of sucks up to me, I guess. Something about raising sales every quarter or something. I wasn't really paying attention," and Ryoma shrugged, gesturing to the entrance nonchalantly. "We should get going, right? If we're going to meet them at the platform."

Momo and Eiji looked at each other, incredulous, while Ryoma started climbing up the stairs in front of them.

"Doesn't Ochibi realize that ALL the girls in Japan drink Ponta now because of him?" Eiji shook his head again, sighing.

"What a guy." Momo just smiled.

They followed Ryoma up to the platform, where a crowd of people was already waiting to board the next train. Momo glanced at the schedule posted next to the small ticket booth.

"Looks like it's still running on time," he remarked to Eiji.

Eiji nodded silently, looking over the list himself.

"You know," he suddenly began, attracting Momo's attention. "I was surprised that they called you."

Momo glanced toward the track, checking to see if the next train had arrived yet.

"Yeah. I was surprised too," he admitted, looking as though there was something about the whole situation that he definitely didn't like. "But I don't think this had anything to do with me."

"But how'd they find out?" Eiji asked, confused.

"Well, I gave Inui-senpai a call earlier," Momo explained. "But I didn't think they'd actually come. I think… I think they're worried about him."

Both Momo and Eiji looked at the back of a currently oblivious Ryoma.

"They should be," Eiji said at last, glancing sideways at his roommate. "I'm sure I don't know why you aren't."

Momo said nothing, his violet eyes simply staring at the seventeen-year-old.

Ryoma suddenly became aware of the feeling of being watched, and he realized his senpais weren't beside him. He turned around, only to see Momo looking right at him, and before he could say a word, the next train arrived at the platform. Ryoma was jostled by the anxious crowd, eager to board, but even as those ambiguous figures murmured and shifted, he couldn't tear his gaze away from his former teammate. He felt a chill go up his spine. What was that look in his senpai's eyes---?

He was startled out of his trance by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the tallest of his old friends staring right back at him, thick-rimmed glasses and all.

There was a kind of strange pause while they just stared at each other.

"Hmm… grown about 24.3 centimeters from when I saw you last, as I thought. I have your measurements from magazine articles, but I was concerned they might not be as accurate as I hoped," Inui remarked, calmly pushing his glasses up his nose.

Inui, at least, was exactly like Ryoma remembered. Except for maybe being even taller than his memory recalled, Ryoma couldn't detect a single change in him. He felt almost relieved at this fact, and he couldn't resist a slight smile.

"Inui-senpai, why are you still trying to take my data?" he asked, almost perplexed.

"Well, you never know how it might come in handy," Inui replied, sounding cryptic. "Although I could make a great deal of money by sending all my analyses to professionals, you know."

He grinned somewhat evilly.

"I'd be scared, except I know you'd never do that," Ryoma pointed out.

"Yes, well, that's true enough." Inui cleared his throat with a cough. "You know, Kaidoh, I know you're star-struck, but you don't have to hang back like this."

It was then that Ryoma noticed an equally familiar figure standing behind the data man, who suddenly let out a very familiar sound.

"Fsssshhhhhhh. I know that, senpai," Kaidoh retorted, looking uncomfortable.

"Kaidoh-senpai? Is that you?" But Ryoma knew he didn't even have to ask. It was clearly the same athletic and anti-social Kaidoh from five years ago, even if he was taller than he used to be. He was still shorter than Inui, after all, although Ryoma didn't know how anyone could be taller than Inui. He also looked like he was in even better shape than five years ago, if that was possible. Nevertheless, Kaidoh looked very much the same, a fact that was again a relief to Ryoma.

"Yeah, it's me," Kaidoh answered gruffly, only meeting Ryoma's gaze for a second.

"Don't mind him," Inui murmured under his breath in Ryoma's direction. "He's actually very happy to see you."

"Well, Kaidoh, did you grab the bags?" And Inui turned back to his companion, leaving Ryoma to smile to himself.

"Yes, senpai," and Kaidoh handed Inui a black travel bag that looked to Ryoma like something he wouldn't enjoy lugging around anywhere, much less for a long trip. Inui, however, took it with one hand and slung it over his right shoulder with ease.

"Inui, what in the world did you pack in there?" Eiji wondered aloud, appearing out of nowhere and affectionately latching onto Ryoma with one arm.

"Oh, Kikumaru, you're here," Inui observed, not answering the redhead's question.

"Yes, I'm here!" Eiji looked almost offended. "I've been here the whole time. Momo-chin, too."

Ryoma noticed Kaidoh bristle at the sound of Momo's name, but the snakelike teenager said nothing.

"Where is Momoshiro, exactly?" Inui glanced around, looking mildly perplexed.

"Huh?" Eiji looked around himself, frowning. "That's strange… He was just here."

And just as suddenly as he'd grabbed onto Ryoma, he let go again and dismissed himself, running off toward the stairs. "I'll be right back! I'm sure he's around here somewhere!"

This impulsive action on the part of Eiji left Ryoma standing by himself with his other two senpais, feeling decidedly at a lost as to what to say.

There was a moment of silence, one that seemed weighted down with something like suspense. And it was then that Inui began to speak again, in an entirely different tone.

"Who have you seen so far, Echizen?"

Ryoma was slightly confused. Why was Inui asking that?

"Well… I saw Ryuzaki-san and Horio and some of the others yesterday. And I saw Kawamura-senpai last night, and then Momo-senpai and Eiji-senpai," he replied slowly. "That's all. Why do you ask?"

"I figured as much," Inui remarked mysteriously. "There's no way they could be here already, even if they came as soon as they heard."

"Inui-senpai, what---" But Ryoma was interrupted by Kaidoh, who looked angry about something.

"Echizen, _they're_ going to come here."

Ryoma vaguely understood who was being discussed, but he was still unsure what the tension he could see in his senpais' faces could mean.

"You mean, Oishi-senpai and Fuji-senpai and…" He meant to clarify what exactly his former teammates were getting at, but he couldn't quite finish the thought.

Inui looked at Ryoma again for a moment, noting what five years had done to change the appearance of Seigaku's former star rookie. He had tapes and magazine articles, of course, but the full effect was completely different from the two-dimensional images in his records. And he knew that he wasn't the only one who would notice those changes, and that Echizen Ryoma had become an exceptionally good-looking young man in the space of five years.

"Echizen," he said at last, very seriously. "I'm going to say something that will probably shock you. But I hope you understand that I have only your best interests in mind. If Oishi or Fuji or especially Tezuka should come here, looking for you… You would do well to avoid them completely."

Ryoma felt his heart stand still for a moment, as he tried to read the expression behind those thick glasses. This was starting to get more than a little strange.

He didn't know about Kaidoh, not for certain, but as for Inui…

Inui had been a friend of Tezuka's, hadn't he?

"_Especially Tezuka…"_

If Inui was Tezuka's friend, why would he warn him about something like that?

_Something's wrong._

_Something's very, very wrong._

"Inui-senpai," he finally stammered. "I don't understand what you mean by that. I mean, why would you say something like… like that, about them…"

He felt his voice trail off awkwardly, but he couldn't find any more words to say. He was just too confused, and the expressions on Inui and Kaidoh's faces were starting to make him feel almost sick, somewhere deep inside.

"Inui-senpai, tell me what you mean!" he exclaimed suddenly, painfully. He wanted all this secret-keeping to end… even if it meant something terrible had to be said…

Even if it destroyed the only real reason he'd come back to Japan in the first place…

"It's not that I meant any offense to them," Inui sighed, understanding the cause of Ryoma's distress. "It's just that I can't guarantee what kind of people you'll find if you go looking for them. I hate to say it, but I don't trust them anymore. None of us do."

"None of you---?" Ryoma repeated.

"Meaning myself, and Kaidoh, and Kawamura and Momoshiro and Kikumaru as well," Inui clarified calmly.

Ryoma swallowed, hard, trying to sort through the questions that were flying through his mind, trying to decide which answers he wanted the most. But somehow, he couldn't. He didn't know where to begin. In the end, he only managed a single word…

"Why?"

"Don't you get it, Echizen?" Kaidoh interjected suddenly. "It's one thing if you want to see _us_, but not them. Something's not right about them. Understand?"

Ryoma thought about this for a moment.

"Wait… You're saying that I shouldn't see them because something is wrong? And that you don't even know what it is?"

Ryoma looked both his senpais right in the eye, very intently.

"Something like that," confirmed Inui, almost hesitantly. "Something did go wrong after you left, but that's not quite how I'd put it. More like… _they_ went wrong after you left."

"Inui-senpai," Ryoma began bravely. "I don't mean to be rude, but I've been gone too long to understand the subtlety of whatever it is you're trying to say."

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Inui-senpai, if something is wrong, I want to find out what it is. I'm not going to avoid anyone. I'm keeping my promise, Inui-senpai. But thank you for the warning all the same."

"Echizen---"

But Inui's attempt to speak was drowned out by the roar of the train leaving the station.

"We should get going," Ryoma said, pointing toward the stairs. "I'm sure that Momo-senpai and Kikumaru-senpai are waiting."

The tennis star turned around and started walking, leaving Inui and Kaidoh to glance at each other, somewhat disconcerted by Ryoma's response.

"Keeping his promise, huh?" Kaidoh mumbled. "Idiot. Of course he'd say something like that."

"As I recall, that's what you like about him, isn't it?" And Inui smiled, noting the slight blush that crept across Kaidoh's face. "Well, maybe it will be alright…"

He looked back toward the exit, where Ryoma was just starting to walk down the stairs.

"It _is_ Echizen, after all."

- - - - - - - -

"You are the fire that keeps me awake at night.

A flame, flashing in the dark, full of passion,

Always aware of how your eyes are sparkling,

Yet never knowing the pain you bring my heart."

Fuji's smooth voice spoke the lines aloud as an almost devilish smile slipped across his mouth.

He could hear footsteps coming from the back room, and he figured that a certain someone had finally noticed what it was that he was reading aloud to nobody in particular.

"Fuji! What are you doing?" Oishi exclaimed as he burst into the front room, looking absolutely furious. Fuji laughed to himself at the former vice captain's face, which had turned an unusually deep shade of red.

"Oh, I was just reading some poetry," Fuji replied in an innocent tone. "You should take a look at it sometime… It's quite interesting."

He nonchalantly started flipping through the pages of the leather-bound notebook in his hands.

"Of course, it gets much more interesting later on… something about lust and unfulfilled desires---"

Before Fuji could finish his sentence, Oishi ripped the notebook right out of the tensai's hands, still blushing like mad.

"Don't touch it ever again!" he snapped angrily.

"My, my… No need to get so defensive. It was fascinating," Fuji mused. "Observing how the emotional depth progressed over the space of three years, into something much more complex than the initial infatuation…"

"I'll thank you in the future not to psychoanalyze it," was Oishi's curt reply, a tense frown on his face as he shoved the book back into his travel bag.

"Oh, but it's so very interesting," was Fuji's mild objection, said as though the tensai couldn't imagine why Oishi would mind such a thing.

"With all due respect, Fuji, _shut up_," Oishi shot back.

At that, Fuji gave up his lounging position on the sofa and rose to his feet, eyes open and glaring daggers.

"Oh? And why should I?" he demanded, voice low. "I think we both know that as far as that goes, we're nothing but equals who happened to choose different paths."

Oishi didn't respond, keeping his back to Fuji and calmly zipping his luggage shut.

"And I think we both know I have reason to resent you for the choice you made," Fuji said, his voice getting progressively lower, and progressively more dangerous. He took a few steps toward Oishi.

"God knows how many times you made him cry," he added viciously, eyes gleaming.

"Fuji, you know that's not…" Oishi tried to protest, but Fuji only laughed.

"Not what you wanted?" he finished for him. "Perhaps not. But you made him cry, Oishi, and for that, I will never forgive you. I won't let you get away with it. Oh, no, I'll make sure you remember, every time I see you, just what exactly it means to be misera---"

"What's going on here?" another voice demanded suddenly. They looked up to see Tezuka, standing by the front door and looking very displeased.

"Ah, Tezuka, good news!" Fuji changed tones completely, plastering a smile on his face. "I got the tickets. We're leaving at midnight tonight."

"What's going on here?" Tezuka asked again, his glance shifting from Fuji to Oishi and back to Fuji again.

"Oh, nothing important," Fuji answered promptly, with a dismissive gesture. "We were just having a little discussion about poetry. Right, Oishi?"

The former vice captain didn't respond, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Fuji, you leave him alo---"

"Ah, ah, ah!" And Fuji walked right up to Tezuka and put a finger to the taller man's lips. "This isn't a time to fight. After all, tomorrow is the date of our grand homecoming, isn't it? Let's not argue like this. Aren't you glad I got the tickets, Tezuka?"

Tezuka seemed almost dumbfounded, and reluctantly replied, "Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Fuji said, sounding absolutely delighted, as though he'd just thought of something brilliant. "And I know what we should do tonight while we're waiting for the flight."

Both Tezuka and Oishi were looking at him now. Fuji smiled, beautifully, knowingly.

"We should celebrate."

**- end of chapter seven –**

**

* * *

**_A/N: Okay! I'm glad I actually was able to get this chapter done today, so I can keep my promise to release two chapters over Labor Day. I know this one is a bit slow… Sorry about that, but I wanted to give the Inui and Kaidoh introduction the time it deserved, and that meant I couldn't reveal too much in the way of raw exposition in that particular scene. Don't worry though! XD Things will start moving faster now. You could probably tell that much from the tone of that last scene… Oh dear. I'm afraid I really am making Fuji sound evil. But if you read what I wrote carefully, you should notice that his motives aren't quite what they seem to be at first. I'm certainly enjoying writing for him, in any case. And… gahhh… my poor, poor boys… I'm really making some of them suffer, aren't I? (pets Oishi and Tezuka) There, there, you two, everything will be okay._

_Oishi: EASY FOR YOU TO SAY! Gosh, I thought I was your favorite character!_

_Me: Uhh… it's tough love? XD_

_Anyway, I'll get the next chapter up asap! **Let me know what you thought of chapter seven, everyone! **Hopefully you enjoyed it. And on a side note: the man and the woman in the first scene aren't important. They're just random people looking at artwork. Lol._

_**Coming Up Next:** As Tezuka gets closer and closer to returning to Japan, Ryoma talks with some of his old friends about days gone by. He hears a few more rumors during these conversations that surprise him, and make him wonder just what exactly was the reason behind the disappearance of Tezuka, Fuji, and Oishi from Japan. Meanwhile, Fuji has a "brilliant idea" that could cause some problems later…_


	8. Chapter 8: Fool Me Twice

**Chapter Eight: Fool Me Twice**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … despite all wishing to the contrary.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter eight! Huzzah! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/Karupin uses flamers as scratching posts. **Lol.

Thanks once again for all the reviews! They've been so encouraging. But… my heart bleeds for all of you who have been affected by this story and find it painful. T.T I'm so sorry, everyone! I usually only write happy fluff fics myself, so I understand your pain. I offer this one assurance… this is not a deathfic and the ending will be, at the very least, bittersweet. I'm also sorry for all the suspense… I really am writing this story as I post it, so I don't mean to keep you all waiting, but well… college homework and all that… Anyway, be sure and **tell me what you think of chapter eight**! Hopefully you'll start seeing some hints at what is going on and why.

* * *

_If I lied once, I lied a thousand times._

_And somewhere along the way…_

_The lie that I don't love you became the truth._

_Because if I loved you, I'd never hurt you like this._

…

Fuji Shusuke could still hear the whispers in that high school hallway two years ago, playing over and over in his head. The voices weren't exactly malicious, but they were relentless, suspicious, awe-struck…

They were the voices of those who had heard that he quit the tennis club at the start of his senior year…

_I heard he was jealous of Tezuka. That he couldn't handle always being second best._

_No way! I heard they were best friends, that they hate playing each other._

_Best friends…? Ha, I doubt it. There's something too weird about that relationship for them to be 'just friends'…_

_No way! That's disgusting! Besides, wasn't Fuji dating that girl a while back…?_

_Yeah, dating her, and then he dumped her like a rock. One of his friends hit him for that one. You can still see the bruise._

_And did you hear what happened to his brother? An awful situation…_

_Whatever. That was probably Fuji's fault too. He was always showing off and making his brother feel inferior._

… Those voices that would never stop talking, that were completely out of his control…

Would they ever be quiet?

He took another long sip from the glass in front of him, and the world in front of his eyes began to blur. The voices, too, started to fade away into nothing, and he could relax again. He was past the painful part, the part just before the alcohol set in, the part where all his ugly memories crowded into his mind at once and screamed aloud for acknowledgment.

Now he was in the soothing state of numbness where he was completely aware of everything around him, but incapable of being hurt by any of it. Incapable of feeling pain. Yes, that was the reason he drank, on occasions like this one. It was too risky to leave the hurt unchecked, to let it eat away at him inside.

Otherwise he'd say something that he'd truly regret.

Like that one time…

No, he obviously hadn't had enough yet. Not if _that_ was still on his blurry conscience. He gulped down the rest of the glass and tried to recall his train of thought.

Good. It was gone.

"Fuji."

There came that voice, through his garbled consciousness, that voice that would have normally reminded him of all the pain of the past few years. Except that now he was much too drunk to remember the past, so instead, he allowed himself to be acutely aware of how that deep voice sent a pulsing sensation of pleasure to his brain.

"Yes, Tezuka?" he said, in a tone that was completely clear and sounded very self-aware. He had become a master at hiding it when he was intoxicated, and only someone who knew him very well would have been able to detect the unusual lightness in his voice.

"You're drinking too much." Of course, Tezuka knew him very well, so naturally he could tell already.

"Oh, don't be silly," and Fuji smiled calmly, letting his eyes focus in on the former captain's face, a face that looked perfectly well-defined even in Fuji's currently fuzzy reality. "I'm alright."

Tezuka had to admit, all in all, that lately Fuji was much more pleasant to be around when he was drunk. He was starting to wonder if alcohol was some kind of defense mechanism on the part of the tensai, to hide something that he was unable to deal with. Although what that could be in this case, Tezuka didn't know.

Either way, he did know that Fuji acted more like he used to be when under the influence. And that, though Tezuka would never admit it aloud, was a guilty pleasure for him.

Of course, he was unsure at this point whether he really felt that way, or whether that was his own shot glass talking.

He hadn't meant to get drunk, of course. But he'd consented to accompany Fuji to a bar, trying to be agreeable, and in the meantime, he'd let Fuji's trickery get the best of him.

Damn that Fuji.

Was it always going to be like this between them?

… What _was_ it like between them?

As usual, Tezuka couldn't answer that question, especially not now that his thoughts were getting all mixed up. Whatever game they were playing, captain and tensai, the two of them had never agreed on the rules, and each always got the distinct feeling that the other was cheating, taking unfair advantage of the other.

Tezuka knew he felt cheated. But he also knew that most of what he blamed Fuji for, in his state of drunken annoyance, was not really the tensai's fault.

No, for most of it, he had no one to blame but himself.

Especially not that one time…

Tezuka would have taken another sip from his glass, but he didn't think he could get his fingers around it by this point without the risk of looking extremely stupid. Besides, for him, it never helped to try to forget the past with alcohol. No, it only made his mistakes more painful, and he would usually wake up with a new sense of guilt the next day for a fresh batch of mistakes he'd made overnight.

And he wasn't going to do anything like _that_ again. Especially not now, not on a night like this…

Not on a night where he was supposed to face his conscience tomorrow and look him right in the eyes…

… Right in those shining gold eyes…

_Oh, God…_

_Please don't let him see me. Not like this._

"We should go home," he murmured suddenly, not even thinking about how it was Fuji he was addressing. "Oishi's all by himself."

Fuji was silent for a moment, as though he was processing what Tezuka had said.

Then he smiled again calmly, and responded in a perfectly alert voice, "Ah, yes, you're right. But I did offer to him to come along. He's angry with me, though."

"Why… by the way, is that?" Tezuka remembered that he had wanted to know what had passed between the two earlier.

"Oh, well, you see, I was reading that notebook of his. I'm afraid I was rude," Fuji admitted, maybe a little too lightly, but with what seemed to be genuine remorse in his voice. "I don't mean to go overboard, but he does make me so angry sometimes…"

"You know that it isn't his fault," Tezuka interrupted huskily.

"Ah, well, from your point of view, anyway," Fuji promptly agreed, a beautiful smile still on his face. "But I can relate to his situation better than you can. And I know he could have done something entirely different."

He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Something that wouldn't have made Eiji cry, you know."

Tezuka didn't seem to hear Fuji's remark, instead rising slowly up out of his seat.

"We should go home," he said again, staring very intently in front of him, but not really seeing anything there.

"Hmm?" Fuji sounded as though this was the first time he'd heard the suggestion. "So soon? Well, I suppose we could. I don't mind."

And the tensai stood up too, looking perfectly sober, and caught the attention of the bartender. He addressed the man using perfect French, saying, "Excuse me, sir, I'd like the check, if you please."

"Ah, yes, of course, monsieur," the man nodded, turning around to print a receipt.

While he was handing the man his credit card, Fuji turned to Tezuka and observed, "You look a little tipsy yourself, Captain."

"I'm alright," was the somewhat gruff response. Fuji just looked at him for a moment, and Tezuka knew he couldn't tell what that expression in those blue eyes meant if his life depended on it.

"Alright then," came the brief reply, coupled with a smile, as Fuji pocketed his receipt. "But let me know if you need an arm walking back."

The cool night air was a sudden change from the heat and noise of the bar, as the two walked outside to head back to Fuji's apartment. The change of atmosphere cleared Tezuka's head somewhat. As bad as he was at holding his liquor, he usually knew himself well enough not to get dead drunk, and he recovered quickly.

With Fuji, on the other hand, it was impossible to tell just how drunk the tensai was at any given time. It was also impossible to tell how long the effects remained with him, since he was so good at hiding it and since his behavior when intoxicated varied as much as his behavior when sober…

Which was why Tezuka had no idea if the slightly slower pace Fuji was taking was a result of the alcohol, or perhaps because something was on his mind.

"What's wrong, Fuji?" he said at last, trying to sound completely collected.

"Ah, nothing, Tezuka," came the cheerful reply.

There was a moment, or maybe several minutes, of complete silence between the two, filled with traffic noises and the faint sound of talking.

"You know, I never meant to hurt you."

Tezuka stopped walking, trying to figure out who had said it, and then realizing that only the person lagging behind in his footsteps could have spoken those words.

"What are you talking about?" He knew it wasn't just the alcohol that made this statement confusing. Well, at least, not on his end, anyway…

"I mean, when I told you, that time, that I was leaving," Fuji attempted to explain, slowly, deliberately.

But Tezuka interrupted him.

"That was a long time ago, Fuji."

The tensai stopped in his tracks and looked up, past the buildings of Paris, up to the night sky where stars were sparkling.

"Yes. It was a long time ago," he agreed quietly, staring upward. "But that's what happens, when you decide to face the past. You remember things like that… things you shouldn't have said…"

…

"_What do you want, Tezuka? Is this all you want from life? Is this really it?"_

…

Tezuka shook his head, frowning, involuntarily gripping his concealed left arm with his right hand.

"That wasn't really your fault," he argued, voice distant. "That was mine."

Fuji kept staring up at the stars, a thoughtful expression on his face. A slight wind from the east began to ruffle his hair, and he blinked.

"Mine… yours… Maybe. Who knows?" His blue eyes took in the starlight with an ethereal effect. "The stars keep shining anyway."

For the first time in the conversation, Tezuka looked up at the sky himself. The feeling of glancing upward gave him a distinct sense of vertigo, and he took a few steps toward Fuji without thinking.

"The stars shine anyway, and here we are," Fuji added, almost in a whisper. Tezuka looked down again, and their eyes met.

It reminded Tezuka of other times, other nights spent walking to the very same apartment, other looks from those blue eyes that seemed to beg to be noticed. But it was nothing like those times at all, those times where intoxicated emotions were stronger than reason, those times where they'd said a thousand ridiculous things, things they weren't even sure if they meant.

No, it wasn't like those times, because Fuji kept talking, instead of allowing the moment to linger in silence.

"Here we are," he remarked again, almost cheerfully now. "We've done nothing but walk in circles, haven't we? Well, there's no help for that. I had my chance."

He took Tezuka by his right arm and began leading him down the street again.

"It's _his_ turn now," he said, further confusing Tezuka's thoughts, which tried to make sense of all the cryptic remarks and failed utterly.

Above the buildings of Paris, a star trembled in the heavens, reaching for the bright moon before falling to earth. And Tezuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Shusuke kept walking.

- - - - - - - - - -

As soon as Inui and Kaidoh followed Ryoma down the stairs, Eiji came running up to them, looking somewhat perplexed.

"It's no good," he called out. "I can't find Momo-chin anywhere."

Inui smiled slightly and glanced at his roommate. "Looks like you managed to scare him off for now, Kaidoh."

"Fssssshhhhhh," hissed the snakelike teenager with a grimace. "That idiot… He's up to something."

"Up to something, senpai?" Ryoma repeated, sounding confused. But Kaidoh just shook his head, glaring.

"Well, I'll try to give him a call," Eiji said, taking out his cellphone and dialing a few numbers. "If he doesn't answer we can just…"

The redhead was interrupted by a voice on the other line.

"Ah, Momo? Yeah, it's Eiji. Hey, where are you, you moron? You just ran off…"

There was a pause, during which Eiji looked surprised.

"In an hour _where_? Why? … Well, okay. I guess so. Oh, he called you? Uh-huh. Okay, I'll take them there."

With that, Eiji hung up and shrugged.

"Apparently, Momo and Taka decided that we're all going to have dinner at Taka's place tonight. And it's on the house, too."

"Really?" Ryoma was somewhat incredulous. It sounded more like something out of the old days, like those celebrations they'd used to have after tournaments, than something they would be doing now that they were older. Still, he had to admit he liked the idea. It had been awhile since he'd had really good sushi.

"Yup," Eiji confirmed cheerfully. "Does that sound good to you, Ochibi?"

"Sure." Ryoma couldn't resist a smile, and Eiji heroically refrained from once again latching onto the shorter boy. Honestly, Ryoma was just so _cute_…

"Did you say you were going to take us there, Kikumaru?" Inui inquired after a moment.

"Oh, yeah, we should get going, even though it's a bit early." Eiji glanced at his watch for a moment. "It's pretty far from here, after all. Do you guys mind carrying your luggage?"

"Not at all," Inui answered for the both of them, shouldering his giant bag again as though he really could carry it all day long.

As they walked the whole way from the train station to Taka's place, Ryoma couldn't help noticing how he had to take more steps than his senpais to keep up with them. Even though he'd grown quite a bit from his preteen days, he couldn't help feeling like he would always be small next to his former teammates. Especially Inui. The data man was well over six feet tall and had been ever since the age of fourteen. Ryoma had seen even taller people, but he didn't think there could be any more imposing than Inui, with his thick glasses that hid his eyes from view.

And then there was Kaidoh, who was much taller than he used to be, a fact that made Ryoma feel even smaller. Kaidoh was almost as intimidating as Inui in appearance, and his eyes certainly weren't hidden, which meant that he could shoot glares at people that almost seemed capable of tearing them in two. Still, Ryoma knew better than to be afraid of this particular senpai. He was a good guy at heart, and it seemed like that hadn't changed… no matter how absolutely livid he seemed toward Momo now…

… Why _was_ he so angry at Momo? Ryoma had already heard that they didn't even confront each other with their anger anymore.

But what could have caused them to become so furious that they now avoided each other entirely…?

Much later, with the sun just beginning to head toward the western horizon, Ryoma found himself walking down the same tiny sidewalk that he had arrived at the night before. The four of them were welcomed into the sushi shop by Taka, who had been waiting by the entrance with a friendly smile.

"Hey, you guys, come on in," he said, sliding open the front door with one arm and gesturing inside.

"It's been awhile, Kawamura," Inui remarked amiably. "You haven't changed a bit."

Taka just laughed. "Well, neither have you, Inui. Nice to see you, Kaidoh."

"Hey," was all Kaidoh said, but he nonetheless looked more relaxed than he normally did, as if he was happy to be back in such a familiar place.

As for Ryoma, he couldn't help feeling rather out of place. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that these were friends who had spent five years together while he'd been gone. These friends still knew each other so well that, even though they had been apart for some time, they were all perfectly at ease with each other. In contrast, he felt like a complete stranger, and that these friends he'd once known had become strangers too. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one completely unfamiliar to Ryoma. And he almost wondered why he cared so much.

He almost wondered, but he didn't. He already knew why.

"Hey, Echizen, come sit over here," Taka said, gesturing to the tennis star, who had unconsciously held back from following them.

As he sat down, Ryoma noticed that Momo had suddenly reappeared next to them all, with his usual carefree smile that seemed to disregard his absence. "So, did Echizen behave himself, Eiji-senpai?"

"No, Ochibi was a terrible little boy," Eiji teased with a grin. "You should punish him for being bad, Momo!"

"Kikumaru-senpai, what in the world did I---" But Ryoma's protest was interrupted by Inui's sadistic suggestion.

"I could make the new version of Inui Juice for him."

"NO!" Ryoma was genuinely scared. He only faintly remembered what those nightmarish drinks had tasted like, and he didn't relish the idea of being reminded again.

"Well, there's always the sushi method," Eiji offered, chuckling. "We could make him eat wasabi sushi. You know, just like Fuji used to have!"

Ryoma would have protested again, but suddenly, the thought of the tensai sitting and eating wasabi sushi made all the old memories from past celebrations come flooding into his mind… and he felt his throat tighten up again, with the vague image of all those happy faces, faces he never knew he'd miss so much…

"Echizen? Are you feeling alright?" Inui suddenly asked, interrupting his train of thought. "You look maybe about 12.8 percent ill."

"12.8 percent ill?" Momo repeated, laughing. "Inui-senpai, what in the heck makes someone 12.8 percent ill?"

"Actually, it usually means that…" But Momo interrupted Inui's attempt at explanation, exclaiming, "Never mind! I don't even want to know."

"You _are_ okay, aren't you, Ochibi?" Eiji looked concerned, which was an expression on the redhead's face that Ryoma wasn't familiar with.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, hoping they wouldn't inquire any further about it. And luckily for him, the conversation took an entirely new turn when Taka sat down to join them.

"Hey, you can eat with us, Taka-san?" Momo looked surprised. "You don't have to help out?"

"Yeah, it's okay for tonight, since it's not so busy," Taka answered, smiling. "We have more help than we used to around here, after all."

"Oh, yeah, how's the new assistant?" Eiji inquired amiably.

"Pretty good. My dad's happy with him, which makes my mom glad, too. Since after all he's getting older now…"

"He's still asking you for the date, isn't he?" Momo grinned mischievously.

"What date?" Ryoma was confused, especially when Taka blushed at the comment. Everyone was giving each other very knowing glances, and Ryoma was intensely conscious of being the only one who didn't get the joke.

"Oh, Echizen, I guess we never told you," Eiji finally responded, eyes sparkling. "Taka-san is engaged."

"Engaged?" Now Ryoma really was surprised. Why hadn't they mentioned this earlier…?

"Yup, he's engaged!" Eiji repeated cheerfully. "To this girl named Kimiko Hoshina. She was in the student council in high school and got to know all of us pretty well. And she's really pretty, too!"

"Wait… Was that the woman who was here last night?" asked Ryoma suddenly, remembering the girl who had left as soon as he came in to the shop the night before.

"What? You better not have been cheating on Hoshina-san, senpai!"

But Taka interrupted Momo's facetious exclamation with a nod and the reply, "Yes, Echizen, that was her."

"She looked at me kind of oddly," Ryoma murmured absently, still recalling it.

"Ah, well, that's because she knows who you are," Taka quickly explained with a chuckle. "I've told her all about you, you know."

"Oh, that's why." Now Ryoma understood. After all, complete strangers often recognized him, and in this case, it made perfect sense. He thought for a moment.

"She _was_ pretty," he said at last. He couldn't resist giving his senpai a grin. "Nice going, Kawamura-senpai."

"He _was_ quite the smooth operator," Inui noted. "I don't mean any offense, Kawamura, but it was rather soon after the breakup, wasn't it?

_Breakup? _

Ryoma noticed Taka's expression grow serious, even sad, but he managed a friendly smile all the same.

"I guess it was," he replied, rather slowly.

"What breakup?" Ryoma couldn't help asking. He wasn't sure what to think of that look in Taka's eyes. There was a moment of silence, and Inui just coughed, not answering. It was Momo who finally spoke up, frowning slightly.

"Hoshina-san went out with Fuji-senpai during the spring of their second year."

"With Fuji-senpai?" Now Ryoma was really confused. He didn't know why, but that sounded odd to him. Having already seen the girl, she didn't really strike Ryoma as Fuji's type… although the more he thought about it, the more he just didn't see Fuji as having a "type." He didn't seem like he'd be the kind of guy to date during high school, somehow.

And yet, apparently, he had dated this girl… and broken up with her…

He had a distinct feeling that he shouldn't ask about it, that it was a touchy subject. And so he stopped himself from inquiring further. But, strangely enough, Momo kept talking, even though Ryoma didn't ask any more questions.

"Actually, there were a lot of rumors about Fuji-senpai and Hoshina-san at school," Momo continued, almost lightly, as though he was just sharing some friendly piece of information. "Rumors that Hoshina-san had liked him since freshman year. And that he started dating her just for the heck of it. And that he hit her sometimes…"

"Momo!" Taka looked actually angry by this point.

"Well, it was true, wasn't it, Taka-san?" Momo shot back. "You knew more about it than anyone else. And you're the one who punched Fuji-senpai in the face when you found out that he broke up with her…"

"Momoshiro!" Inui interrupted sternly, eyebrows furrowed.

Ryoma couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought maybe he was dreaming… a very strange dream… a nightmare, even. This didn't sound right at all.

Taka would never, _ever_ hit Fuji. They were friends. Really good friends, who were always looking out for each other. He wouldn't do something like that to him.

… Would he?

… But why would Fuji abuse a perfectly nice girl?

No, this was all wrong…

It was all wrong… and Ryoma was distinctly aware that the look in Momo's eyes was wrong, too. His eyes were clouded, his face tense, even though his voice sounded almost detached from the situation. What was going on with Momo, anyway? He was acting nothing like the carefree guy that Ryoma had been friends with in junior high…

"It's okay," Taka said at last, even though his hands were clenched tightly and his eyes sparking. "It was a bad situation, I know. But it's in the past. It doesn't do any good to dwell on it."

"It wasn't your fault anyway," Eiji murmured, expression almost distant. "It was Fuji's. He was asking for it. He was being so cruel to her..."

"That's not true, Eiji," Taka protested, still frowning. "It wasn't really Fuji's fault."

"I still can't understand how you could say that, Kawamura." Inui just shook his head. "It had to be Fuij's fault. There's no one else to blame. And yet you always say that it wasn't him."

"Well, it was him, but… I mean, you shouldn't blame him like this when you don't really understand…" Taka trailed off, a sad expression on his face.

"What is there to understand?" Eiji looked confused, maybe even upset. "He was so cold to her. She even cried right in the hallway once."

"Look, Fuji had a lot going on during that time," Taka finally explained, somewhat slowly. "You know that his brother quit high school and started playing in the minor circuits back then. And his family wasn't too happy about it…"

"That's true," Eiji agreed softly. "Fuji did seem very upset about that."

"But you still hit him," Inui objected, arms folded. "You seemed to think it was his fault at the time…"

"I lost my head," consented Taka sorrowfully. "I know I did. And I know it didn't help Fuji at all. In fact, it's probably one of the reasons that he left."

"Fuji-senpai didn't leave because of a girl," Momo interrupted, almost smirking. "He's not like that. It doesn't make sense."

"What are you saying, you idiot?" Kaidoh suddenly spoke up, almost growling. "It's not like you know why he left!"

Momo met the gaze of his rival then, staring straight into those glaring black eyes without flinching.

"Oh? Do you know, Viper?" he mocked, almost viciously. "Do you know why Fuji-senpai left? Do you know why Tezuka-buchou ran away to Germany? Do you? If you do, then go ahead, enlighten us!"

There was a pause filled with so much tension that it seemed to Ryoma like the room would break. He'd seen the animosity between those two before… his memory of it was still quite vivid…

But it paled in comparison with the hatred he saw in Kaidoh's eyes as he stared at Momo now. The mere sight of it made his stomach twist in knots.

Finally, Kaidoh looked away, and the tension disappeared. He didn't respond to Momo's taunts, or even make that familiar hissing noise. He just… did nothing. Nothing at all.

Was that what it was like between them now? It gave Ryoma chills.

"Momoshiro," Inui said at last, looking frustrated. "You know that none of us know why Fuji and Tezuka left. You shouldn't taunt him like that."

"None of us?" Momo repeated, speaking in a strange tone that Ryoma didn't like. "Oh, I see. None of us _here_ know anything about it, right? But there _is_ someone who knows…"

"Momo-chin, you're being stupid," Eiji spoke up suddenly, frowning. "It doesn't matter who knows. The point is, we don't, so there's no use talking about Fuji or Tezuka now."

"Ah. I see. Well, then, you must think we shouldn't tell Echizen about Tezuka-buchou, in that case. That makes sense. After all, what good could it possibly do him to find _that_ out?" Momo shrugged, like it was all a matter of course and he'd given up.

Ryoma felt his heart skip a beat. What---?

"Find what out?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Momoshiro, you know that's just speculation," Inui objected. "We don't know that for sure."

"Oh, of course, you're right…" Momo trailed off lightly, sounding decidedly unconvinced, only to be interrupted by Ryoma.

"Don't know _what_, Inui-senpai? What are you talking about?"

Inui looked at Echizen for a moment. Then he sighed.

"I guess there's no help for it. Echizen, there's a rumor circling around about Tezuka that you haven't heard yet…"

…

"_Echizen! Become Seigaku's pillar of support!"_

…

"_Let's not get careless, everyone."_

…

"_I have no doubt of it. You will be on top of the world."_

…

"Tezuka doesn't play tennis anymore," Inui said.

_It's a lie._

The Tezuka that Ryoma knew could split the sky. He could make the impossible happen. He could do anything, even shock a listless twelve-year-old out of apathy and make him into a pro.

_It has to be a lie._

Tezuka could fall, too, of course, but the one thing that Tezuka could never do was stop getting back up again. He had spent months in rehabilitation in Germany, taking the time to completely recover from a career-threatening injury, just so he could keep playing tennis.

_It's a LIE!_

"Buchou would never stop playing tennis," Ryoma retorted blankly. "It can't be true."

"Perhaps not," Inui readily admitted. "But what is true is that there is no record of Tezuka Kunimitsu entering, winning, or losing a single competitive tennis match or tournament since our third year of high school."

"It _is_ strange," Taka added. "It sounds nothing like Tezuka, does it?"

"At least we know that's not because of a girl," Eiji sighed.

"No kidding it's not," Momo interjected, a grim smile on his face. "Tezuka-buchou didn't date a single girl during high school. Wasn't that how he wanted it?"

"Well, that may be true," allowed Inui, adjusting his glasses. "His attitude during high school did seem to suggest it was by his own preference. It wasn't like there was a lack of hopeful candidates…"

By this point, Ryoma didn't even hear a word that was being said. It was like he was somewhere else, somewhere far away from Japan, somewhere outside of the reach of time itself. He saw in front of him that shining figure, that imposing presence, telling him to stand up, giving him that familiar command…

"_Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!"_

He saw that man, that man that he remembered so well, that golden light that still shone in his memories…

Was that man gone?

No. It had to be a lie. Ryoma was sure of it.

Gold could shatter. The sky could fall. But a pillar of support did not crumble.

It just didn't.

Momoshiro glanced sideways at Ryoma, looking at the vacant expression in his face. And his violet eyes grew dark, but he said nothing.

- - - - - - - -

_An angel came to me last night._

_He said I was going to die._

…

_I think it was you who said so._

Oishi let the pen drop out of his hand as his fingers went limp. He didn't know how long he'd been scribbling across those apathetic sheets of paper, and his mind was in too much of a haze to read what he had written.

But he knew that, whatever it was, it was painful. It always was, on nights like this, when he was along in a dark apartment with no one but himself there. Then his words always came out in fragmented thoughts, with strange images and metaphors that hardly made sense to him afterwards.

He didn't mind writing when he was doing it during the day. Sometimes, he even wrote something that would make him smile, remembering happier times when he hadn't been so alone.

But during the night…

Oh, how he hated the night…

He could never sleep, not until the thin, weary hours just before dawn. And if he tried to lie down, he only had the ugliest kind of nightmares, the empty kind where you fall down a black hole just before you jolt awake. So most of the time, he would write, trying to forget his darkest thoughts. And when he fell asleep, it would be at his desk, with his head against his notebook.

But now, his thoughts were still going a mile a minute in a frenzy of anticipation. He knew he wasn't going to fall asleep. Not now, not on the plane…

_Oh, God…_

_The plane…_

He was shaking now. He felt cold all over, like he sometimes did on midnights in the dead of winter. Except that it wasn't winter, it was summer, and he was in Paris, and it wasn't cold…

But inside, Oishi was sure he was frozen solid.

He glanced down at the page, trying to read what he had written, and it made him want to cry.

_You are like the angel._

_Except that death would be kinder_

_Than your condemning eyes…_

…

_Tomorrow._

**- end of chapter eight -**

* * *

_A/N: Whew! I wanted to post this chapter on Thursday, but I had to do some editing to make sure it made sense, lol. I guess that's what happens when you write three kind of disjointed scenes. So… yeah… Now I'm making both Momo and Fuji sound evil. Dangit. They're really not! I promise! XD Gaahhh… Fortunately I should get to explain all that pretty soon here. In the meantime, I'm probably going to get comments like "What the heck? Fuji beat up a girl?" and "Taka would NEVER hit Fuji! EVER! Sacrilege!" … Trust me, I know, it doesn't make any sense yet. But it will! Really!_

_(Although by now I bet you all are like… "Yeah, whatever, she says that in every AN, and in every chapter it just gets more and more messed up…")_

_I have a plan! I swear! XD Well, anyway, I'll shut up now, since I know you'd rather have more chapters than useless commentary. The next chapter should be up around the end of the weekend or so, with any luck. **Well, please let me know what you thought of chapter eight!**_

_**Coming Up Next: **Eiji and Momo take Ryoma back to their apartment, where Eiji finds a message waiting for him… Plus, Momo gets a phone call that confirms Inui and Kaidoh's suspicions. Are all the Regulars really going to be together again after five years? And after five years filled with more than their share of secrets, is that really something they all want?_


	9. Chapter 9: Make Believe

**Chapter Nine: Make Believe**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … -sniffles-

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter nine! Whew! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/Horio will exposit for hours at flamers. **Lol.

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! They all mean so much to me… and seriously, you guys are so smart. O.O You have insights about my plot that I thought no one in their right minds would notice yet. Oh, and to answer a quick question: Oishi was home alone at Fuji's apartment in the last scene of chapter 8. All three of them are getting on the plane to Japan at midnight, so all three were "killing time," so to speak, until then. Just to clarify, since I didn't actually say where Oishi was in the last scene… Anyway, on with the chapter! **Let me know what you think of chapter nine!**

* * *

_I remember sitting by your side at sunset…_

_That day, you told me a secret._

_A secret about what you wanted, more than anything else…_

_I just wish that you had wished for me instead._

…

"We're home!" Eiji's voice said cheerfully as the creak of a door sounded in the darkened apartment.

"Kikumaru-senpai, who are you talking to?" Ryoma couldn't help asking once they'd entered the living room and Momo had begun turning on the lights. But just as soon as he'd said it, he felt something brush by his leg and charge straight toward Eiji.

He looked to see the redhead picking up a snow white kitten, who began happily mewing and rubbing against his chest.

"Hey, Shuuko-chan, that tickles!" Eiji laughed, gently scratching the cat behind its ears.

"You have a cat?" Then Ryoma remembered that he'd seen a litter box in the apartment earlier. "Oh, right…"

"Yes, we have a cat," Momo answered for Eiji, rolling his eyes. "Eiji-senpai saw it at the pet store and it was love at first sight. He wouldn't take no for an answer. And so now… we have a cat."

"Well, it's MY apartment, Momo," Eiji said with a toss of his head. "You're only paying a third of the rent. Anyway, Shuuko-chan is adorable. Aren't you? Yes, that's right. Nya, nya, nya…!"

While Eiji proceeded to talk to the kitten in nonsensical cat noises, Ryoma couldn't help noting, "Isn't that a weird thing to name a cat?" (1)

"Well, that's what I said, but Eiji-senpai has strange ideas about naming animals." Momo just shrugged. "He insisted that was her name from the moment he saw her. Even though we didn't even know if it _was_ a 'her' to begin with…"

"Momo-chin! How can you say that?" Eiji demanded, indigant. "Of course I knew! Right, Shuuko-chan?"

He again proceeded to snuggle with the housecat, who purred right back.

Ryoma watched for a moment, and then he suddenly remarked, "Well, I should probably get going back to the hotel…"

"Oh no, you don't!" Eiji exclaimed, shaking his head. "You're at least staying for some cake. I've been trying to finish off the strawberry one so I can make another flavor."

"Cake?" Ryoma looked confused. "Since when do you cook, Kikumaru-senpai?"

"Actually, Eiji-senpai's always been a good cook, even since before I knew him," Momo explained, kicking aside a few books and sitting down on the couch.

Eiji grinned, setting the cat back down on the floor, who nevertheless continued rubbing against the redhead's legs. "Well, I don't like to brag, but I do make some mean desserts, if I do say so myself. Anyway, you have to at least have a slice before you go. Let me go get some."

And with that, Eiji disappeared around the corner into the kitchenette.

Ryoma just sighed and sat down on the couch opposite from Momo. "He never quits, does he?"

"Not really," chuckled Momo. "But Eiji-senpai's a good guy, you know."

Ryoma watched as the white cat slowly crept up to where he was sitting, and began sniffing around his ankles.

"Yeah, I know." He paused for a moment. "Does she usually like strangers?"

"Who?" Momo looked confused until he noticed the cat, who was by this point rubbing Ryoma's leg affectionately. "Oh, the cat. Actually, she's pretty shy most of the time. She must like you."

Ryoma bent over and gently picked the cat up, setting it on his lap. He started petting it on the back, working his way up to behind its neck. The cat instantly began purring, and he couldn't resist a smile. It reminded him somehow of his own cat, Karupin, who was still in America.

"You have quite a way with cats," Momo observed quietly, purple eyes fixed on the way Ryoma's slender hands ran up and down the kitten's white fur. He faintly recalled the fact that Ryoma had owned a cat when he went to Seigaku, and that one day it had gone missing…

"Well, cats are easy to please," Ryoma murmured. "They don't expect much from you. I've always thought cats were easier to understand than people, honestly."

He laughed a little. "I guess that's weird, isn't it?"

"Not really." Momo shook his head slightly, resting his chin in his hand as he gazed at the boy. "You know, Echizen… I've been thinking… Maybe…"

Ryoma looked at Momo with curiosity gleaming in his golden eyes, but whatever Momo had been about to say was interrupted by a fuzzy voice coming from around the corner.

"What's that?" Ryoma whispered. "It sounds like a girl."

"Oh, it's the answering machine," Momo answered after listening for a moment. "Eiji-senpai must be checking it for messages."

They both fell silent, and in that instant, they couldn't help wanting to hear what the girl was saying…

"…_So, Eiji-kun, I'm sorry. You're a really sweet guy. But I don't think we're right for each other after all. If you want to talk about it in person, give me a call, but I'll be out until late tonight. With him. I'm so sorry, Eiji-kun. Really. And I hope you find someone who's much better for you than me. Maybe we can still be friends? I hope so. Goodbye, Eij-kun."_

There was a beeping sound, and then nothing but silence. Ryoma looked back at Momo with a stunned expression.

"Was that just now---?"

"Number seven," Momo replied before Ryoma could finish, looking almost disgusted. Ryoma blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Number seven," repeated Momo, almost too calmly. "The number of times Eiji-senpai's been dumped by a girl he's been seeing for at least a month since entering college. A really bad success rate, don't you think?"

Ryoma didn't know what to say. He felt the kitten cuddling up against him, but he had stopped petting it by this point.

"That's terrible," he whispered. "Kikumaru-senpai must be…"

"Hey, Ochibi, I've got your cake!" said a light, cheerful voice, interrupting Ryoma's train of thought. Eiji came back into the room with one of the best fake smiles Ryoma had yet seen, handing the teenage tennis a paper plate.

"Sorry we don't have fine china or anything, but Momo-chin is really bad about doing the dishes," Eiji teased, also handing Momo a plate and then sitting down with his own. The cat jumped off of Ryoma's lap and went to lie down by Eiji's feet.

"Hey, come on, now, Eiji-senpai!" Momo protested, his grim expression completely gone. It was painfully obvious to Ryoma that both of his senpais were just playing along, pretending that nobody had heard the message.

And so he didn't say anything. But he did take the bright yellow plastic fork and break off a piece of the fluffy, sugary cake in front of him. He hesitantly put it into his mouth, even though he usually didn't like sweets that much…

"Hey, this isn't bad," Ryoma said, surprised. Eiji just grinned. "Why, thank you, Ochibi. I'm honored."

Ryoma never remembered afterwards what it was they talked about in that half hour. It seemed to him like nothing was really being said, but he tried to join in anyway. Still, he was consciously aware that every word spoken was just a decided effort to avoid what was really on everyone's mind. It was Ryoma's first time participating in a completely shallow, fake conversation. And it decidedly bothered him.

Which was why, the next thing he knew, he slowly remarked, "I should probably get going now. I have a long walk to the hotel. Thanks very much for the cake, Kikumaru-senpai."

He set the empty plate carefully down on the cluttered coffee table in front of him and stood up.

"Oh, okay, then, Echizen," nodded Momo, getting up himself. "Here. I'll get the door for you."

They both walked down the tiny hallway in silence. But Momo turned to him just before opening the door and muttered, "Don't worry. I'll talk to him."

Ryoma nodded, heading through the doorway. He looked back for a moment. "Good night, Momo-senpai."

"Good night, Echizen."

When Momo shut the door behind him, he stood there for a moment in silence. He tried to remember the last time Eiji had broken up with a girlfriend. He couldn't even remember what her name had been. He remembered the first time Eiji had broken up with a girl, though. He would never forget that night. Eiji had called him, in tears, saying that he was sorry for waking Momo up like that when he knew that Momo had to go to high school the next day, but that he really didn't know who else to talk to, and that he was so lonely…

Silently, he walked back into the living room, looking at Eiji, who by now had set down his own plate and was just staring off into the distance.

"Eiji-senpai…" Momo didn't quite know where to begin, but he was interrupted by his roommate.

"Ochibi heard it too, didn't he?" His voice sounded empty, defeated, but not really devastated.

Momo just nodded, slowly.

Eiji laughed a little, but it sounded hollow. "I thought so. He's even worse at pretending than I am. But, you know, it doesn't matter that much to me. I'm used to it."

Even as he said it, Momo could see Eiji's eyes began to water.

"Eiji-senpai…" Momo kneeled by Eiji's chair, putting one hand on his roommate's shoulder. But Eiji shook his head, gripping Momo by the arm and hiding his face in Momo's left shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'll be okay," the redhead whispered, voice shaking a little. "I'm being stupid. I mean, I knew this would happen. And I told myself I'd be okay with it when it did. And I was… but…"

Eiji's muffled voice paused for a moment.

"It's just that… when she said that thing… you know, that she hoped I'd find someone that was right for me… it's just…"

Eiji was actually crying now, Momo knew. He could tell by the way he sounded so choked up. He put one arm around his roommate, gently patting him on the back.

"There's no one right for me," Eiji managed at last, sniffling a little. Momo didn't say anything, but he looked at the top of Eiji's dark red hair in silence, eyes knowing.

_No, Eiji-senpai…_

_There IS someone right for you…_

_But you let him get away._

"Ah, I'm sorry, Momo," Eiji laughed suddenly, pulling away and wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. "I'm being such a baby. I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure, Eiji-senpai?" inquired Momo, unconvinced. "You know you don't have to hide anything from me."

"Yeah, I know," Eiji said bravely, standing up and grabbing the plates. He took a deep breath. "But I'll be okay. And that's all there is to it, really."

He vanished around the corner for a moment, and Momo heard the noise of something being crammed into the garbage can. Then Eiji came back around the corner, rubbing his hands together dismissively, and completely changed the subject.

"So what were you and Ochibi talking about while I was in the kitchen?"

"Huh? What were we talking about?" Momo looked confused. "Well, actually, we were talking about the cat…"

"Really?" Eiji looked decidedly disappointed. "I thought maybe the two of you were… you know… _getting along_."

He chuckled slightly, further perplexing Momo, until a realization dawned on the younger of the two.

"Eiji-senpai, you don't mean it _that_ way, do you?"

"Well, I don't know. I thought _you_ meant it that way," observed Eiji innocently. "You keep giving him this _look_… I thought you and Ochibi were just friends."

"We are," Momo insisted, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's not like that."

"Oh, alright then," Eiji said in a suggestive tone. "If you say so, Momo-chin."

"Eiji-senpai!"

Amid an ensuing round of protests on the part of Momo and teasing on the part of Eiji, the white kitten wandered around the clutter of the living room, ignoring the noise. It suddenly perked up, as if something had caught its attention, and hopped onto one of the shelves. In doing so, it just barely brushed by one of the photographs, the one Ryoma had recognized from the night on the mountaintop…

The frame teetered on the edge of the shelf for a moment, and then fell to the floor, cracking the glass into several pieces.

- - - - - - - -

Tezuka stood in the terminal of the airport, gazing out the window at the airplane that was going to take him to Japan in a matter of hours. It was an almost lonely sight, that smooth white plane standing by itself in the darkest hours of the night, waiting for the expected departure time. He watched as the service attendants inspected the plane from top to bottom, and he felt almost as though he too should be inspecting himself, trying to remember why it was that he was so far away from Japan in the first place.

Though, as to that, he only dimly recalled the night that he had sealed his own fate…

"Tezuka." That voice that always entered his consciousness like a seductive broken record interrupted his thoughts yet again.

"Yes?" He didn't bother turning away from the window. He could see a perfectly reflected image of the tensai against the glass pane, shining with the light that was inside the terminal. He could see that subtle smile, that mask that told him nothing of what it was that its owner was actually feeling. And so he could find no real reason to look at that face directly.

Besides, when he did look at those blue eyes directly, when they appeared from behind the mask…

… That was the one thing that always managed to undo him…

"I was wondering if you thought it best that we give the others a call," Fuji answered at last. "They have no idea that we're coming, after all."

Inwardly, Tezuka cringed at the notion, hoping against hope that whatever happened, they wouldn't actually come to meet them at the airport…

But, nevertheless, he nodded to Fuji in reply. The tensai was right, after all. It wouldn't do them any good to get to Japan and then just waste time trying to track everyone down.

"Alright then," Fuji agreed, taking his cell phone from his pocket. "I'll try Momoshiro's number."

Still staring at the reflection, Tezuka watched as the deceptively fragile figure of the tensai turned around and began walking away from the window, holding the mobile phone to his ear. He faintly heard that voice murmur a greeting to someone on the other line, but he was instantly distracted…

… He could have sworn that he saw the faint image of a shining, golden figure slide across the glass, right in front of him…

Its accusing eyes cut him to the heart.

- - - - - - - - -

_Did you forget? Did you? Answer me!_

_ANSWER ME!_

…

Ryoma woke suddenly from a nightmare, breathing hard and in a cold sweat. The bed sheets were twisted all around his body, and for a moment, he felt as though he was bound like a prisoner, unable to escape the strange vision that refused to fade away from his memory…

And those eyes… he could still feel them staring right into his soul…

_Oh, God…_

_No, it was only a dream. Just a dream._

After a moment, he had calmed down enough to patiently untangle himself from the pale white sheets and sit slowly up in bed, looking around the dark hotel room. He checked the time on the alarm clock nearby, but it was only three in the morning. … What in the world was he doing up at three in the morning, anyway?

This was ridiculous, really. Echizen Ryoma never had nightmares. In fact, he couldn't even remember a single nightmare from when he was younger…

Except he did recall one, one that he had experienced about five years ago, when he'd just made it through the primaries for the U.S. Open.

But that one was different. He'd taken care of that. He'd returned to Japan, and he'd faced Tezuka, playing against him one last time before leaving for New York for good. Yes, that was over and done with.

… Wasn't it?

The more Ryoma thought about it, the more he realized that the eyes that had glared at him in the nightmare were the same eyes that had been in that dream, five long years ago.

But he had already faced Tezuka on the tennis court. That was over with. And he had kept his promise and returned to Japan, too. It was Tezuka who hadn't even bothered to wait for him.

No, he'd done what he promised.

… Hadn't he?

Ryoma found himself staring into the darkness, wrestling with his own thoughts, trying to face the dream and forget it at the same time. After all, it was just a dream. It didn't really matter. What mattered was that he had done what he promised, and he was in Japan now.

Yes, that was what mattered.

Besides, that dream… that dream that screamed with the noise of an oncoming train, and cried with tears that wouldn't stop dripping down the walls, and ached with the pain of a broken heart…

That dream made no sense. It couldn't possibly make sense.

No, that nightmare wasn't real.

Ryoma knew it couldn't be real. And that was all there was to it.

Ryoma collapsed back into bed, his head sinking into the pillow, and he closed his eyes. But for the longest time, he couldn't get the blurred images of the nightmare out of his mind.

… Especially those betrayed, accusing eyes.

- - - - - - - - -

It was late. It was very late. Momoshiro was completely aware of that fact, even faintly aware that he could no longer call "late" what was quickly becoming "early," what with that faint morning light that was staring to show between the curtains…

But still, he couldn't get to sleep, and he wasn't even about to try, not at this point. He continued flipping through the channels on a muted television, not even really seeing what was on the screen but knowing it couldn't possibly hold his interest. He glanced at the occupied space on the couch next to him, and smiled silently to himself at the sight of Eiji curled up, fast asleep, with the cat asleep next to him.

For a while, they'd both been awake together, admitting that for some reason, sleep was impossible on this particular night. Especially when they'd found the broken picture frame on the floor, the one the cat had accidently knocked over... Something about the sight of the cracked glass had unsettled them both. But by this point, Eiji had finally nodded off, and Momoshiro was secretly glad, especially because he knew his roommate could be particularly grumpy when he didn't get enough rest.

But as for Momo, his mind wouldn't stop running ahead of itself, propelled by a vague feeling that something was about to happen. And when he couldn't stop thinking like that, he couldn't get to sleep. It was that simple…

For this night, anyway, he wasn't going to sleep at all.

His mind was too preoccupied with a thousand things for that. Concerns about the future. Guesses about things that he could feel were about to happen. Plans about what he would do about those things that were about to happen… hopes that it wouldn't all shatter into pieces, like the glass...

And as he glanced at his cell phone, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, he wasn't the least bit surprised to hear it start to ring.

Reaching over, he grasped it in his hand, flipped it open, and held it to one ear…

"Hello?"

"_Is this Momoshiro?"_

It was a voice he knew well. Very well.

"Hello, Fuji-senpai," he replied quietly, knowingly.

"_Hello, Momo. I'm calling to tell you that Tezuka, Oishi, and I are going to be on our way to Japan within a few hours… And also to tell you that you can do whatever you like with this information… at your own discretion."_

That voice sounded almost defiant, as though it was daring Momo to do something. Or at least, that was what it sounded like to Momo's ears. He smiled grimly.

"I see. Thank you for calling, Fuji-senpai. What time will your flight get in?" he asked, trying to sound unconscious of the hidden threat that he knew lay somewhere in those words.

"_It will get in at about 6:30 your time."_

"Alright then. Do you want us to meet you at the airport, Fuji-senpai?" Momo couldn't help trying to decipher the tone of Fuji's voice, trying to guess what the tensai felt about the whole thing.

"_No, don't worry about that. We'll go straight to the hotel, the one right by the airport. You can go there instead."_

"Okay then. I'll remember," was all Momo said. He managed a few polite words as a goodbye, and then hung up the phone.

_Perfect. It's even the hotel where Echizen's staying._

_It's almost too perfect… But…_

_No. It's okay. Everything will be alright._

Momo glanced over at his roommate, who had stirred at the sound of the phone ringing. Eiji sleepily forced open one eye and mumbled, "Wha whazzat?"

"Nothing, Eiji-senpai," he replied softly, smiling as the redhead shifted a little and then fell asleep again. He looked at his catlike senpai and let a little bit of what he was feeling creep into his eyes then. Those violet eyes became filled with compassion, compassion and also regret…

_Nothing at all, Eiji-senpai. Except maybe… maybe just a little bit of hope for us._

_If he can come through…_

_But I know he will. For you, Eiji-senpai. For all of us._

**- end of chapter nine -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** (1) The cat's name is Shuuko, which is a female Japanese name. I don't know Japanese cultural standards in naming cats, but it can be a little unusual to use a person's name for a pet, in my own American experience. In any case, this name also happens to be a female form of the male first name 'Shuichiroh'… not that I'm implying anything… Noooo, of course not… XD 

_A/N: Whew! Sorry this chapter is abouttwo days late from when I wanted to finish… This weekend was a surprisingly busy one for me. But I finally finished it! Sorry it's a bit shorter and a bit less eventful than other chapters… It's the final building of suspense before the Seigaku Regulars are officially reunited! I'll have that chapter up by this weekend, I promise. And then things will really start happening…_

_By the way, in answering a question from one of my reviewers, yes, Tezuka and Inui are both family names/last names. Their first names are Kunimitsu and Sadaharu, respectively. In fact, I feel now is as good a time as any to point something out… My system of naming in this fic is only 100 percent accurate and consistent in the dialogue. I use only what each character actually calls another character in the anime, unless otherwise noted. However, when I use names of characters within the actual description, I just try to use the shortest and most familiar versions of the names possible. This usually means I use the last name (e.g. Tezuka, Inui, Fuji). The three exceptions are Eiji, Taka, and Ryoma, all for various reasons… One other note on naming choice: I normally refer to the complete Japanese names in the Japanese way. Example: Echizen Ryoma, where Echizen is the last name and Ryoma is the first name. HOWEVER, I changed this when the characters were in an English-speaking setting, like in America, where obviously Ryoma's manager would use Ryoma's first name, with no honorific, and would say his first name before his last name. I wrote the fic assuming people were familiar with the naming system, so I'm sorry if I confused anyone! XD My bad!_

_And, by the way, for anyone who's curious… Because I am a geek, flight length and time zone differences in this chapter were checked for accuracy. Yes. I AM that lame. Lol. XD_

_Anyway, thanks again for all your support, everyone! **And please let me know what you thought of chapter nine!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** The Regulars are finally reunited, and tension from the memories of the past starts to surface instantly. Can Ryoma sort through all the secrets and the lies and get to the real heart of the matter? Or is he even prepared to discover for himself the source of the problem that broke up the Regulars after he left?_


	10. Chapter 10: Turn Around Again

**Chapter Ten: Turn Around Again**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … Darn.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter ten! Finally! XD Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/Tomoka shrieks at flamers. **Lol.

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! (And **JB**, wow. O.O That was so deep… And, of course, **chibiukyou**, you know I love you. Many thanks to **Fubaki Sakura**, by the way, who has also been such a sweet reviewer and even left a note on Japanese cat names which answered a question I had… And **Ishka** and **BluAyu** and… gaahhh! You're ALL wonderful! XD Again, thanks so much!) Well, on the with the fic! **Let me know what you think of chapter ten!**

* * *

_I remember the last time we were together._

_We stood there, shaking hands, on the brink of twilight…_

_I can still see the tears shining in your eyes…_

_I still wonder why it was you cried back then._

…

Tezuka stared out the tiny airplane window, but he couldn't see a thing. It was completely dark outside, in those thin hours just before dawn as the plane chased down the sun, flying closer and closer to Japan…

He shuddered slightly. The thought of getting ever closer to that island was starting to unnerve him. He hadn't been back there for over a year, and some part of him had intended to never return. Especially since his parents had been so disapproving of his decision to leave. He couldn't stand to let them down like that, but he just couldn't stay on that cruel, heartless island any longer…

_Oh, God._

_I'm starting to sound like Fuji._

At that thought, he couldn't resist glancing over at the two people seated next to him. Both of his companions appeared to be sleeping, but he had a nagging suspicion that neither of them actually were.

He let his eyes settle on Fuji for a moment, who was sitting in the seat nearest the aisle, the farthest away from Tezuka. The former captain wondered why Fuji hadn't insisted upon sitting next to him… He would have expected that, based on everything the tensai had done for the past fourteen months… But he hadn't. He hadn't even said a thing about it.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Tezuka couldn't help staring at Fuji while he slept. It was true, what all the socialites in Paris said about Fuji… He was absolutely beautiful. He had a perfect face, with delicate features. Tezuka didn't know a thing about aesthetics, but even he wasn't so blind that he couldn't see that. And yet, as angelic as Fuji Shusuke could look when he was sleeping, Tezuka never felt like Fuji was an angel lately. Rather, sometimes he got the distinct feeling the tensai was anything but that…

He stopping staring at Fuji and turned to Oishi, who was right next to him. His friend looked unusually pale in the dim lighting, he thought. After a moment, Tezuka nudged him softly and whispered, "Oishi."

The former vice captain didn't even flinch as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Yeah, Tezuka?" He smiled a little, but his voice sounded distant to Tezuka's ears.

"Are you alright?" Tezuka couldn't help frowning. Really, his friend didn't look well. He wondered if it was nerves… that would have been so like Oishi, especially given the circumstances…

"Ah, yeah, I'm fine," Oishi assured him, smiling a bit wider and sitting up straight. But Tezuka couldn't help noticing the way he tried to wrap his jacket closer around his body.

"Are you cold?" he asked quietly, seriously. He glanced up at the air-conditioning vents above the seat, but they were already closed.

Oishi just laughed a little, almost too lightly. "Yeah, it's funny… I can't seem to get warm. I'm okay, though."

Silently, Tezuka gripped Oishi's hand, which had been lying on the armrest. He was surprised at how cold the former vice captain's fingers were.

"Your hand feels like ice," he remarked, looking right at Oishi.

"I'm fine," Oishi insisted again. He glanced at the window, which still showed nothing but black. "What were you thinking about?"

There was a pause, and Oishi looked at Tezuka, eyes softening.

"Were you thinking about Echizen?" he added, almost under his breath. He felt like he shouldn't say something like that too loud, at least not when Fuji might very well be listening, but he couldn't help asking it all the same.

Tezuka was silent for a moment, looking at a loss as to what to say.

"I don't know," he answered finally, almost wearily.

He stared out the window for the thousandth time, wondering if it had really been Ryoma he'd seen in that strange reflection in the airport terminal. He was started to wonder if he was losing his grip on reality … After all, here he was, going back to Japan, of all the crazy things, something that he'd all but sworn he would never do…

"Tezuka, whatever happens…" Oishi trailed off as he caught Tezuka's attention again. He paused for a moment, but then he grabbed Tezuka's hand and looked straight into the former captain's eyes, very solemnly.

"Whatever happens when we get there, I'm here for you, okay?"

Tezuka nodded, slowly. He looked at Oishi's fingers, the way they wrapped around his own, and he couldn't help thinking of another night that his friend had been there for him…

On that one night, that awful night that had been covered in blood…

"Oishi…" But he couldn't finish what he wanted to say. Not when he couldn't stop thinking about _that_.

But, of course, Oishi understood. Like he always did, Tezuka thought to himself. It was true. Oishi was always there for him. Even now, when his friend just gave him a sympathetic squeeze with his hand, and then let go, sinking back into his own chair with a quiet sigh.

But, somehow, hearing that sigh… Tezuka couldn't leave it at that.

"Oishi," he said again, hesitantly. His friend looked back at him almost quizzically. "You know… well…"

He paused, trying to find the right words, while Oishi waited patiently.

"I want to be here for you too. This time around," he murmured finally. "I mean… what you did for me back then…"

"… Was what anyone would have done," Oishi finished for him, smiling again. "But thank you, Tezuka. I appreciate it."

In the long silence that followed, Tezuka watched his friend slowly close his eyes and drift off again. And he couldn't help wondering for the thousandth time what would await them both when the plane finally touched down on solid ground.

Tezuka's attention had drifted back to the tiny window, and so he didn't notice when two shockingly blue eyes opened without a sound and continued to stare right at him.

- - - - - - - -

Inui was awake very early, almost before dawn, but he wasn't a bit surprised to see that his roommate had already left their hotel room beforehand. There was a 99 percent chance that Kaidoh had gotten out of bed at 4:45 in the morning, probably to go use the hotel exercise equipment in place of his usual training menu.

That was so like Kaidoh, of course. Inui knew how much he hated to break up his daily routine, which was why he normally hated taking vacations of any kind.

"Not this time, though," Inui murmured, smiling a bit to himself. "You wanted to come this time, didn't you? For Echizen's sake."

At that, Inui couldn't help interrupting his own train of thought with a frown.

_Echizen… I don't know what's in store for you here…_

He absentmindedly pushed his glasses upward, staring out the large hotel room window. The faintest glow of the color of dawn was still visible in the sky, even though the sun had been up for a good twenty minutes.

_But it would have been better if you'd stayed in America._

Walking over to his black travel bag, he zipped open the main compartment and began rummaging around among all his possessions. For what felt like the hundredth time since he'd started to wonder when a certain plane would be getting in, he opened a notebook with a worn cover and began flipping through the pages. It was no good, though. All the data he'd attempted to take in high school had become, for the most part, largely unreliable… especially when it came to those three…

"There's just no consistent pattern," he murmured to himself. "It's not that there's no cause to be found behind it. It's just that…"

He paused for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts.

"It's just that data can't help you predict the heart, after all," he finished at last, almost wryly, as though the shortcomings of his own information seemed ironic to him.

Inui slid the notebook back inside his travel bag, and no sooner had he done so than the hotel telephone began to ring.

"Hello?" He picked up the phone calmly.

"_Hey, Inui-senpai. This is Momo."_

"Oh, hello, Momoshiro," Inui replied, glancing toward the door, where he could hear the knob being turned. Sure enough, Kaidoh came through the doorway and looked surprised to see his roommate on the phone. Inui couldn't resist a slight smile at that.

"_There's something I wanted to tell you."_

"Alright, Momoshiro, go ahead," Inui replied, even though he chuckled inwardly at the way Kaidoh bristled at the sound of that particular name.

"_They're coming."_

At those words, Inui became completely serious, and even Kaidoh noticed the change.

"When?" was all he said in reply, almost grimly, as he glanced meaningfully at his roommate.

"_Tonight. Be at the lobby of the Imperial at around seven. I'll make sure everyone is there."_

"Everyone?" Inui was somewhat confused. "Momoshiro, why exactly---"

But he was interrupted.

"_It's time for a reunion, don't you think? See you there, Inui-senpai."_

With that, the person on the other line hung up, and Inui was left to stare for a moment at the receiver.

"What did the idiot say?" Kaidoh inquired gruffly, with a note of curiosity in his voice.

"He said that they're coming," Inui explained, somewhat hesitantly. "They'll be here tonight…"

"What is it, senpai?" Kaidoh came up alongside Inui and looked him in the eye. He'd never seen his roommate look so perplexed before.

Inui was silent for a moment longer as he hung up the telephone.

"I think Momoshiro is planning something," he said finally.

Kaidoh frowned, hissing with something like disgust.

"Of course he is. That idiot…"

For a moment, they both grew silent and looked outside the window, watching as the last hint of color melted away from the pale blue sky. It was almost as though they could see, far off in the distance, that plane that was soon going to reunite them all, for better or for worse. And at the moment, they both couldn't help feeling like it very well might be for worse.

- - - - - - - -

Ryoma reached over and turned the shower knob all the way back to the top position, brushing the warm water out of his eyes as the steady flow slowed to a hesitant trickle. Somewhat carelessly, he reached near his head and pulled the towel off the rod, rubbing the white terrycloth across his bare arms and down his chest.

As he was drying himself off, he couldn't help wondering for the thousandth time what it was that Momo was planning.

His senpai had called him in the morning, mentioning offhandedly that he and Eiji would be waiting for him in the hotel lobby around seven o'clock. Ryoma had attempted to ask him what exactly they would be doing after they met up in the lobby, but Momo had skated around the question and said cheerfully that he couldn't wait to see him then.

Thinking back on it now, Ryoma shook his head, almost annoyed.

_That Momo-senpai… he's been acting so weird… nothing like he used to act at all…_

The teenage tennis star frowned as he stepped out of the shower, drying his feet on the mat. He was starting to wonder if his senpais were anything like the friends he had left behind five years ago. After all, one thing kept leading to another, and by this point Ryoma had heard so many strange things that he felt like nothing could shock him anymore.

_Well, maybe that's good… Maybe all the secrets are over with now._

He absently slid a close-fitting white tank top over his head, pulling it down his chest, and reached for a pair of jeans.

He hoped that it was over with, truthfully. He hadn't wanted his return to be a long list of painful discoveries and hidden secrets. He just wanted to see his friends again.

And he had really wanted that.

The truth was, Ryoma had missed his friends dearly while he was away. He was a star athlete, but fame wasn't conducive to making friends, especially not with his tight training schedule. And other than his old friends at Seigaku, very few people ever understood that his outwardly cold personality wasn't meant to be offensive. It was just a part of who he was, and he didn't know how to change it.

Still getting dressed, Ryoma grabbed a dark overshirt and slid his arms into it.

Maybe that was why he couldn't help looking at the past with a sense of wistful longing. He knew that it wasn't like him at all to feel that way, to miss people, to _care_. But he _did_ care. He had missed them. That was why he had come back, even though part of him had been afraid and had held back for five years.

Of course, there had been consequences that had come with waiting so long to return. Now things were very different from his fond memories. And he was starting to feel that the people he had missed so much were no longer the people he had left behind.

Glancing halfheartedly at the steamy mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair, flicking a thousand tiny drops of water every which way as he did so. He decided his hair would look alright once it dried, and so he stopped messing with it. He didn't know where he was going tonight, but he figured it wasn't going to be any place special. It was probably just Momo and Eiji wanting to hang out again, after all.

_Well, no matter what's changed, they're still them. And I still missed them._

Taking a deep breath, Ryoma twisted on the doorknob and let the cold air rush into the bathroom. Walking into the bedroom, he glanced outside the window, surprised to see that it was already sunset.

_It was sunset back then too, wasn't it?_

Ryoma couldn't help remembering the evening when he had left Japan for good. He'd shaken hands with the man who had inspired him, and then he'd boarded a plane for America. He hadn't looked back. He hadn't planned to return, either… except that he promised that he would, and, well, he had to keep that promise. No matter what.

Taking a few steps toward the window, even though he knew it was late, Ryoma couldn't help getting lost in his own memories. He allowed himself to get lost in them, remembering every little detail…

From the day he literally ran into Momo on his first day of school…

… to the first time he was forced to drink that toxic waste called Inui Juice…

… to the first confrontation with Tezuka on the tennis court…

… to the time they all climbed that mountain at midnight to watch the sun come up…

… to the week they spent together at tennis camp before the Rikkai match…

… to the trip to Germany where they delivered the championship medal to Tezuka personally…

…

Germany.

Was that really where Tezuka was now? It still didn't make sense to Ryoma, unless Tezuka had gone there to play tennis. But no one seemed to think that was why he had disappeared. It didn't make any sense at all.

What had gone wrong?

With a small sigh, Ryoma shook himself out of his own reverie and glanced at the digital clock. It was already past seven, but he didn't feel particularly rushed. After all, it was just Momo and Eiji, probably already waiting for him so they could go eat or something. Still, he grabbed his wallet and checked to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. And with that done, he pocketed his room key and headed out the door.

All the way down to the lobby, Ryoma could feel his mind still wandering. Somehow, he couldn't stop thinking about the way things used to be… Which, really, wasn't like him at all, but something about that sunset had reminded him…

He walked out toward the lobby and glanced around, expecting to see Momo and Eiji waving frantically at him and telling him to "Hurry up, Echizen!" But, with so many people in the bustling room, he didn't recognize anyone for a moment…

When he finally did recognize someone, his heart stopped beating.

He blinked, once, then twice. He was sure he was seeing things. But he wasn't. He couldn't be. Because even though he recognized that man, he had never seen him before. Not looking like that.

He couldn't move; his feet felt like they were nailed to the floor. And the small crowd of people he was staring at didn't notice him then. It was something Ryoma was grateful for later, because he couldn't even imagine, in that moment, what his face must have been saying for all the world to see.

But it was true. It really was him. No, it was _them_. It was all three of the people in that photo on Eiji's shelf, and even though they had certainly looked older in the picture, they looked still older to Ryoma now. And Oishi looked even more worried than he had in the photograph… And Fuji looked even more beautiful than he had in the photograph…

And Tezuka…

Tezuka looked… he looked… the photograph had been…

_Oh, God._

_Buchou._

He felt his legs start to move, even though he tried to stop, and he walked straight up to them. He heard someone call out to them, and realized a moment later it had been his own voice speaking.

"Oishi-senpai, Fuji-senpai… Buchou… is it really---?"

He had recovered from the shock of first seeing them, or rather he realized that he must have, because a fresh wave of it came over him when all three of them looked straight at him.

And Fuji's eyes were so blue and Oishi's eyes were so dull and Tezuka's eyes were so shattered that he just couldn't say another word…

"Echizen," was all Tezuka said. And even though it was a statement and not a question, he looked just as surprised as if he hadn't recognized the boy at all.

Ryoma didn't respond, instead just staring into those amber-colored eyes as though time itself had stopped.

"Is that really you, Echizen?" came Oishi's pleasant voice into his ears, even though his eyes were still fixed on Tezuka.

"Of course it's Echizen, Oishi-senpai!" It was Momo's more boisterous voice, and the grip of two hands on his shoulders, that shook Ryoma back into reality. "Didn't you recognize him?"

Momo nudged Ryoma again and gave the tennis star a smile, which somehow made Ryoma feel as though the room was clearer and that the earth was spinning normally again. He turned his attention back to the three newcomers and was able to meet their eyes more calmly this time, even though he was sure his heart was still skipping every other beat.

"I recognized him right away. He looks just like his photo ads," said the most melodic voice that Ryoma had ever heard, coupled with an approving glance from the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Ryoma almost couldn't believe this new Fuji could possibly be human. He looked more like a living doll, or a work of art come to life.

"But he's gotten so tall," Oishi pointed out amiably, laughing a little. "I guess I should have expected it, though."

Oishi seemed fairly recognizable to Ryoma, except that something in him was nagging at him, whispering in his ear that Oishi didn't look well, that he looked like he'd been sick for a long time. But no one had said anything about Oishi being sick… Had they?

Tezuka didn't say anything, but Ryoma couldn't help giving him another quick glance as well. He knew that Tezuka didn't look all that different from his memory. Or, at least, he shouldn't have. But, again, as with the photograph, he was distinctly aware that there was something about him, something in his eyes that had never been there before…

And that thing changed everything else, until Ryoma hardly knew who that man was anymore.

… What was it?

"He _has_ grown, hasn't he? I think he's taller than you now, Fuji-senpai," Momo was observing casually, as he turned to the tensai.

"Oh, well, I don't doubt that," Fuji replied, with an absolutely heavenly laugh. "Most people are taller than I am, after all."

"Not everyone, Fujiko-chan!" Eiji protested, coming up alongside his friend. He was smiling, but Ryoma got the distinct impression that the redhead seemed uncomfortable. "And anyway, I'm not that much taller than you either…"

"Ah, but you're Eiji," protested Fuji gently, drawing the redhead's face to his own and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "And that's all there is to it. How are you? You don't call me nearly enough, you know."

Eiji laughed, almost nervously, Ryoma thought. "Oh, I'm doing fine, Fuji. College is kind of busy, though, and I sort of lose track of everything…"

"Ah, now that I understand completely. I'm always terribly behind on all my assignments, I'm afraid," Fuji responded cheerfully. He turned back toward the group in general. "How about the rest of you? What have you been up to? It's been so long, you know."

"It has been a long time," Inui replied seriously, even tensely. "But things here have been business as usual for the most part, as I'm sure we'd all agree."

At that, all four of the other former Seigaku regulars who had remained in Japan nodded.

"Of course," Inui continued, almost hesitantly. "I'm sure we couldn't say the same for you three. What have you been up to?"

There was a pause, and the silence felt uncomfortable to Ryoma at least.

"Ah, well, I know Oishi is getting along quite well at Oxford," Fuji answered at last, with that never-changing smile. "I hear he's the pride of his professors and studies day in and day out."

"What about you, Fuji?" Oishi protested quietly, trying to change the subject. "You're the talk of Paris, with all your photography projects…"

"Oh, they're only trifles, really," Fuji interrupted, waving away the compliment. "It's just a little hobby of mine. I'm certainly no genius, not at all."

"That's not what they say about you, though," Tezuka remarked. Everyone seemed rather surprised to hear Tezuka argue that particular point, Ryoma thought, and he, too, was caught off guard by the tone of voice the former captain had used…

"Well, perhaps not," and Fuji just shrugged and changed the subject again, still smiling. "Oh, Momo, since everyone's here now, I wanted to ask… Had you planned anything for tonight?"

"Oh, not for tonight," Momo responded lightly. "I thought you three might be tired after the flight."

"I suppose you're right about that," agreed Fuji, glancing at Oishi and then Tezuka. "But we should all go out to lunch tomorrow, in that case. I'm sure we have a lot to talk about."

"You're right, of course, Fuji-senpai," Momo nodded agreeably. "I'll take care of it. You three should take it easy until then."

"In that case," Inui interrupted in his usual calm voice. "Kaidoh and I will be going. We'll see you all tomorrow."

The others nodded, and the two broke off from the group and began to walk toward the door.

"What do you think, senpai?" Kaidoh hissed under his breath as they left.

"It's not good," Inui answered cryptically, in a low tone. "They're even worse than last time. I don't know what they've been doing, but… It can't have been good."

Back in the small crowd, Taka was starting to look uncomfortable as well. "I think I should go too. Sorry about that, you guys… but I really need to be helping out at home."

"That's alright, Taka-san," Momo answered for them all, with a friendly wave. "You go on home. I'll give you a call in the morning."

"Um, I'll be waiting in the car. Okay, Momo?" Eiji nudged his roommate anxiously, trying to catch his attention. Momo nodded again, whispering under his breath, "Alright. Go ahead."

"So," he said in a much louder voice to the four that were remaining. "Can Echizen and I help you guys with anything before I go? The bags, maybe?"

Without glancing at Tezuka or Oishi, Fuji answered for them all, "That would be nice. Why don't you two help me carry the bags to our floor while Tezuka and Oishi check in and get the keys?"

"Sure thing," Momo promptly replied. He looked at Ryoma. "Is that okay with you, Echizen?"

"Uh, sure," Ryoma agreed, even though he wasn't quite sure how he'd just gotten volunteered to play bellboy. Momo took the heavy bags himself, but he gestured to a few of the others. "You can grab those, okay, Echizen?"

"Okay." And Echizen leaned over to pick up a large duffel bag and a black leather travel case, following Momo and Fuji toward the elevator.

_So that was it. That was the reunion._

Outwardly, Ryoma felt almost cheated. After all, it had only lasted a moment, and nothing had even been said that had been meaningful. He didn't know what he expected, but that hadn't been it. And yet…

In that moment…

In that moment, when all nine of them had stood together, as one unit again, Ryoma had felt something. Something inevitable. Something was going to happen now, now that they were together again. He didn't know what it was, but whatever it turned out to be…

… He was going to be ready. For their sake. For his friends. He was going to find out for himself what had gone wrong five years ago. He was sure of that.

Because something had certainly gone wrong. He could see that now. No, he felt it, with every word the three newcomers had spoken. With every nonchalant gesture, with every polite smile, every last little syllable that had been uttered, one word screamed in his head…

_FAKE!_

Whatever had just passed between them all had only been a feigned kind of friendliness. He knew that was the truth, beyond the shadow of a doubt. He had seen the discomfort of the situation reflected clearly in the eyes of those who had stayed behind. But even if these newcomers were the best pretenders Ryoma had yet seen, he was sure that they too were only hiding behind an act…

And before he went back to America, Ryoma was going to find out the truth behind that act.

Fuji glanced back at the teenage tennis star, watching for a moment as the boy thought to himself. And then the tensai turned back to Momo with his eyes open, smiling rather knowingly.

"He grew up quite nicely, didn't he?"

Momo's smile was equally ironic, as his eyes stared right back into Fuji's, unintimidated.

"I didn't think you'd notice. You aren't going to try something, are you, Fuji-senpai?" he inquired almost darkly.

"I had thought of it," Fuji admitted, his voice dangerously casual, his eyes daring Momo to object. "And if I do try something?"

"I'll stop you," was Momo's simple answer, but he meant every word, as the tensai knew all too well.

"Alright then." Fuji's wry smile widened into a grin. "You're on, Momoshiro. Tomorrow night, we'll see if you can stop me."

"Tomorrow night?" Momo repeated, suddenly caught off guard. "What in the world are you saying--?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Fuji said, laughing. "But I'll make a deal with you then to leave him alone. If you succeed, that is."

"I'll succeed," Momo answered simply, pushing the button for the elevator.

"Succeed at what, Momo-senpai?" Ryoma suddenly interrupted, looking very confused. He had only heard Momo's reply to Fuji, and it had seemed very out of the blue to him.

"Ah, nothing, Echizen. Oh, here's the elevator," Fuji observed cheerfully, his dark expression completely gone. "Would you press the button for the third floor, please?"

Ryoma complied, but he couldn't help glancing at Momo after he had done so, trying to read his senpai's expression. But there was nothing there that told him anything of what had passed between the two a moment earlier.

Back at the front desk, Tezuka and Oishi were waiting for the hostess to find the room keys.

"Are you alright, Oishi?" Tezuka was asking quietly as he watched his friend rub his forehead.

Oishi nodded weakly, replying, "Yeah, I'm alright. I just have the worst headache…"

"Did you see him?" Tezuka inquired hesitantly, in a low tone.

Oishi nodded, his eyes softening even as he cringed with the throbbing pain around his forehead. "I saw him."

"You're going to have to speak to him eventually, you know," Tezuka couldn't help observing. Oishi nodded again, more slowly this time.

"I know… That's why I have a headache."

The hostess returned and handed Tezuka an envelope, and the pair headed for the elevators, just as Fuji and Momo and Ryoma had only five minutes earlier.

As they waited, Oishi spoke up suddenly. "You didn't say anything to Echizen."

Tezuka was silent for a moment, and then he sighed, almost imperceptibly.

"I know. I couldn't, not there. I just…"

He let his words trail off into nothing. And then he turned and looked straight at Oishi, with a solemn expression.

"Well, everything will be alright."

Oishi smiled at that, and nodded again.

"Right. Everything will be alright."

**-end of chapter ten-**

* * *

_A/N: Gaaahhhh, I'm sorry this chapter was over two days late! My bad, my bad! XD I was distracted by several things this weekend and it took me awhile to get it right. And I know… Even with that, nothing really happened in this chapter. Well, that was on purpose, because I really wanted the reunion to be a stand-alone moment rather than an exposition-fest… But it's okay if you're mad at me for that! I promise I'll make up for it in the next chapter, which I'll have up asap! (Hopefully by Wednesday, but I can't promise for sure…) In any case, I'm sure you can tell that things are pretty much coming to a climax here, since the biggest secrets are the only things left to be told…_

_At least I was able to do one thing: reveal exactly why Ryoma returned to Japan when he did. It's probably no surprise to anyone by this point, but it was worthy of an explanation, in my humble opinion. Since, as Ryoma would say, it's not like him to "care" so much. :)_

_Well, despite the fact that this chapter was very inconclusive, I hope you enjoyed it anyway! **Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten!** I'll do my best to have the next one up very soon!_

_**Coming Up Next:** The Regulars have been reunited, but what awaits them when they confront their fears and say the things that have been left unsaid for so many years? Ryoma is about to find out._


	11. Chapter 11: Fool's Gold

**Chapter Eleven: Fool's Gold**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … so, uh, don't sue me?

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter eleven! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/flamers will be barraged with tennis balls. **Lol.

Thanks so much again for all the reviews. (Especially **Solanum Dulcamara**, whose review absolutely blew me away. Thank you so much! I'm honored! -bows low- I hope you really enjoy this chapter!) Ah, and to answer a question from another one of my wonderful reviewers… It is true that we are at a climax of the story. (There will actually be two climaxes, to be honest, but the second one is much closer to the end…) And that said, people are starting to wonder how long this story will be. Well, if I'm completely honest, I can't say for sure. Beyond the second climax, I'm going to be going on instinct when it comes to where I end the story. But my best guess is it will be 20 to maybe 25 chapters at most… Err, well, that's my best guess, anyway. Hopefully I'll be able to keep you all interested that long! I CAN say with confidence that we're coming to some of the best parts, in my opinion. Okay, now on with the fic! **Let me know what you think of chapter eleven!**

* * *

"_I am being cruel to be kind."_

_I hate it when people say that._

_I still hate it now, because like it or not…_

_That is why I must be cruel to you._

…

"Hey, Eiji-senpai."

Momo had already walked all the way back from the second floor of the hotel out to the nearby parking garage, after making sure that the newcomers were taken care of and that Ryoma had made it back to his room. He didn't like to be suspicious of his senpais, but that had long since ceased being an option, from his point of view. And that was especially true in light of Fuji's recent threat...

_What exactly did Fuji-senpai mean by that, anyway?_

Shrugging off the thought, he came up alongside Eiji's bright red convertible and gave his roommate a casual wave, which was greeted only with a slight smile. Momo didn't expect more than that, though, not tonight.

Opening the car door, he slid into the passenger seat and looked carefully at his friend. Eiji looked very unsettled, much like Ryoma had looked when he'd left for his own room, but other than that, Momo couldn't read his expression.

"Are you okay, Eiji-senpai?" he asked finally, putting one hand on the redhead's shoulder.

There was a slight pause, and then Eiji nodded.

"I'm fine," he said, as convincingly as he could. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you seemed uncomfortable back there," explained Momo quietly. "Not that I really blame you."

Eiji sighed a little and rolled his eyes, almost exasperated.

"It's just the same old story anyway. Tezuka's been moping around and Fuji's been doing God-knows-what… I mean, sure, they're in college, but it's like they just won't let high school go already."

Momo said nothing for a moment, thinking to himself.

"It's not like we're any better," he said at last, catching Eiji's attention. "We didn't let high school go, either. We just stayed here, waiting for answers, waiting for them to come back to us…"

"We did not!" Eiji interrupted indignantly. "At least, _I_ didn't. I was always going to attend college here. Everyone knows that. Because I'm too _stupid_ to get some fancy scholarship that'll take me halfway around the world just so I can run away from my problems…"

"So instead you're in a cycle of bad relationships and you hardly bother attending class," Momo cut in, with a cold tone in his voice that caught Eiji off guard.

For a moment, the redhead was completely still, staring at Momo like he'd just received the worst shock in the world.

"Momo!" he finally exclaimed, with a reproachful look.

"What? It isn't the truth?" retorted his roommate, avoiding the gaze of those dark blue eyes.

Eiji just stared at him for a moment, eyes sparking. Then, without a word, he grabbed his keys and started the engine, stepping hard on the gas as the car sped out of the garage and onto the street.

Momo gazed straight ahead, feeling the wind whip past his face, but he hardly saw what was in front of him. His mind was far away, thinking through a hundred memories, trying to remember the sequence of five years that had held more secrets than he could count…

And so he was surprised when Eiji finally spoke again, sounding unusually tense.

"You know, Momo, you don't have to go around and try to fix every stupid little thing that ever went wrong. I don't want to fix it. I didn't _want_ to see them again, okay?"

Eiji's voice was shaking now, and Momo suddenly noticed that his roommate's hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"It's just easier to pretend they were never my friends, anyway."

Eiji was glaring straight ahead so intently that he didn't even notice that the traffic light had turned green until the car behind him starting honking.

"Oh, alright already! Idiot…" he muttered as he hit the gas pedal again.

Momo waited for a moment, looking at the lines of frustration around his friend's forehead, and the grimace that was etched on the redhead's face.

And he thought to himself, if the fact that the most carefree person he had ever known had learned to grimace… If that fact alone didn't condemn the pain that these five years had brought them all, well, then he didn't know what did.

"Eiji-senpai," he said at last, very calmly. "I understand why you're upset, but…"

"I am NOT upset!" Eiji yelled, swerving slightly in the lane as he did so.

"Eiji-senpai, it's a red light," Momo interrupted quietly, jerking forward as Eiji slammed on the break. He looked over to see his roommate covering his face with his hands in frustration.

"Eiji-senpai, I can drive, if you want…"

"No, it's fine. I'm alright," said a muffled voice, as the redhead took a deep breath. His hands slipped down again, and his face was calmer. But Momo didn't like that blank look in his eyes, all the same.

The light turned green again, and Eiji stepped on the accelerator, more smoothly this time. It was a good five minutes before he spoke again, but when he did, it was in a much softer tone, one that Momo had to listen carefully to hear.

"I just don't like being anywhere near them. It scares me. They're nothing like they used to be, and it's scary, okay? And to be honest, I'm mad at them. I'm mad at them for running away, and for doing really stupid things… I mean, why does Fuji smell like cigarettes and alcohol now? You know, I hate it when people smoke… I always have, and…"

Eiji's voice trailed off then, and his eyes grew distant.

"I don't know. I just don't know them anymore," he said finally.

Momo didn't reply. He would have, but he knew that he would probably find himself saying something else that would set Eiji off. And they still had to get back to the apartment in one piece, after all.

Besides, Eiji was refusing to say a single word about the one person that Momo knew was really upsetting him.

Eiji was completely aware of that, too, and he knew that Momo knew. But he just couldn't say anything about _that_ person. He couldn't. Not when just looking at Oishi had made his heart feel like it was being crushed. And he resented the fact that Oishi hadn't even said a word to him at the hotel. He resented it so much that right now he wished he could just smash something. But he couldn't. He had to drive home. And so there was no way he was going to mention _that_ person, certainly not out loud.

And frankly, if Oishi was going to play that game, fine. He would play along. If Oishi didn't talk to him for the rest of the trip, so be it. He wouldn't either.

_So there, Oishi. I can ignore you just as easily as you can ignore me._

_So much for the Golden Pair, you big jerk._

Eiji frowned to himself, tossing his head slightly with a flippant expression, and then signaled carefully as he turned into the side street that was the address to their apartment.

- - - - - - - -

Ryoma was staring at the television, only vaguely comprehending that those dim colors and indistinct sounds meant anything at all, when he heard a hesitant knock. Surprised, he got up from the bed, where he'd been sitting, and walked over to the door.

He paused for a moment to glance through the keyhole, and then promptly turned the knob, only to find one of his former teammates standing in the doorway.

"Oishi-senpai, what are you doing here?" he couldn't help asking, confusion in his eyes.

"Ah, Echizen, I…" For a moment, Oishi looked as though he had forgotten what he was going to say, and then he laughed, almost absently. "I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. Are you busy?"

It was a silly question, Ryoma thought. Why would he be busy? Didn't his senpai know that the only reason that he was in Japan in the first place was to see him? All of them?

Still, he answered the question, silly or not. "No, I'm not busy. Come on in."

He opened the door a bit wider and gestured for Oishi to come inside, but the former vice captain held back. "Oh, no, I don't want to impose…"

"Oishi-senpai, come on in," Ryoma said again, looking him straight in the eyes. Oishi just nodded, somewhat weakly, and stepped inside so Ryoma could close the door.

"Do you want something to drink? I'll pay for it," Ryoma suggested amiably, pointing to the refrigerated snack bar in the corner. But Oishi shook his head.

"Thanks anyway. Those things are expensive."

"Oishi-senpai," Ryoma couldn't help interrupting, looking slightly exasperated. "I pay the rent for my parents' apartment. Even if the soda in there cost 10,000 yen, I could afford it. So if you want something, you can have it. Really." (1)

Oishi laughed at that, raising his eyebrows. "Honestly, you're that rich? I had no idea. Still, I'll pass. Thank you, though."

"Suit yourself," Ryoma said with a shrug, sitting back down on the end of his king-size bed. He watched for a moment as the former vice captain glanced toward the large window in the room. The curtains were still pulled back, and all of Tokyo was sparkling beyond the glass, bustling with activity even so late at night.

But while Oishi gazed at the cityscape, Ryoma examined his senpai, frowning. He still couldn't put his finger on it, but Oishi really did not look well.

"Oishi-senpai, have you been sick?" he finally asked, distracting the former vice captain from his admiration of the view.

"Hm? Oh… no. No, I haven't," Oishi replied readily enough, but his smile didn't quite look genuine.

"You don't look well," Ryoma couldn't help protesting, not liking the expressionless look in Oishi's dull green eyes.

"I'm alright," Oishi insisted quietly. He then quickly changed the subject. "Echizen, I didn't want to take up too much of your time, but I thought I should mention something to you…"

He had begun firmly enough, but his words trailed off for a moment. He looked as though he was trying to decide exactly what to say.

Ryoma waited patiently, trying to read those blank eyes, trying to decipher the message behind that calm tone of voice. But he completely failed, and suddenly he understood what Eiji meant when he had said that Oishi no longer existed. The Oishi that Ryoma had known, after all, had been transparent and passionate, and this person no longer seemed that way at all.

"I guess what I wanted to say is, just be careful," Oishi said at last. "I know that everyone is really glad that you came back. And I wouldn't want something bad to happen to you, just because Tezuka decided he wanted to see you…"

"Buchou wanted to see me?" Ryoma interrupted, looking startled.

"That's right. But it probably wasn't the wisest decision," Oishi sighed, sitting down on a chair near the window. "I can't say too much about it, because it's not my place. It's just that… Well, Tezuka isn't quite the same person he used to be."

"Oishi-senpai, you do realize that everyone else has said exactly the same thing to me over and over again, don't you?" Ryoma pointed out, somewhat annoyed. "I won't know what you mean unless you say more than that."

"You're right," Oishi agreed slowly. "I don't mean to confuse you. But I'm sure the others would have told you more if they could have…"

"What about you, then? Can you?" Ryoma asked. But even as he said it, the expression that suddenly appeared on Oishi's face made a chill run down his spine. And in that moment, he remembered something that Momo had said, just the night before.

…

"_None of us here know anything about it, right? But there _is_ someone who knows…"_

…

"Oishi-senpai, do _you_ know?" Ryoma asked, the tension in his voice breaking the heavy silence. "Do you know what happened? What went wrong?"

Oishi didn't answer, instead getting up again and walking toward the window, turning his back to Ryoma.

"Oishi-senpai…"

"Echizen," Oishi spoke up suddenly. "Whatever you do, stay away from Fuji, okay?"

Ryoma felt his heart stand still for a moment.

"What---?"

Even though he tried to voice the question that lingered in his mind, his throat had tightened up and he couldn't speak.

He watched in uncomfortable silence as Oishi reached out and put the tips of his fingers on the windowpane.

"Tezuka would never try to hurt you, Echizen," Oishi said finally, gazing at the myriad of lights outside. "But Fuji will do whatever he wants to do."

"Oishi-senpai, I thought you cared about Fuji-senpai," Ryoma finally protested, completely shocked. What in the world could Oishi be implying? That Fuji wanted to hurt him?

Oishi sighed again, still staring out the window.

"I do care about Fuji. And that's why I'm telling you this. Don't do anything that would drive Fuji into a corner."

"What do you mean, drive him into a corner?" Ryoma demanded, standing up suddenly. "I don't even know what you're talking about…"

"Echizen, I'm going to say something to you that I would never tell anyone else."

The serious look in Oishi's face as he turned back to the tennis star made Ryoma feel as though he had been frozen into place.

"The person that changed Tezuka is Fuji. Tezuka himself is hardly even aware of it. But it's the truth."

There was a pause, as Oishi stared into Ryoma's eyes, and Ryoma was sure that he could hear the frantic beating of his own heart. Why was it beating so fast---?

"How?" he finally managed to say, almost gasping it.

"How?" Oishi repeated softly, his eyes growing distant as he turned away again. "How did he change Tezuka? That's a good question, but I'm afraid it's a question without an answer."

He paused a moment, thinking to himself about another question, a question of his own, one that also had no answer.

"How do we affect other people? Sometimes we don't even realize our own power over others, Echizen. And that's what happened with Fuji and Tezuka."

Ryoma didn't understand. How could he, with cryptic answers like those? And yet, suddenly, he felt as though the answers he wanted were just below the surface, as though they were right in front of him, if only he could figure them out…

… How could he figure them out?

…

"_I heard a rumor a few months ago that even his parents don't know exactly where he is…"_

"_The truth is, they're not the same people you knew. Not anymore."_

"_It's one thing if you want to see us, but not them. Something's not right about them. Understand?"_

"_Fuji-senpai didn't leave because of a girl."_

"_Tezuka doesn't play tennis anymore."_

…

No. It was just under the surface, but there was something missing. There was a piece of information that Ryoma still needed, one that just might bring all the pieces together.

And he was going to get that missing piece. No matter what.

"Oishi-senpai," he spoke up suddenly, firmly. "Does Buchou still play tennis?"

For a moment, Oishi looked surprised, and then he smiled a little. But it was a horribly fake smile, one with no mirth in it.

"Oh, did you hear a rumor about that? No, he doesn't."

Just like that. Oishi said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that Ryoma was absolutely aghast. How could Oishi just _say_ something like that?

"Oishi-senpai, why would he---?"

"I can't say anything more about that, Ryoma. It's Tezuka's choice whether he wants to tell you about it or not. But I would ask one thing of you, Echizen." Oishi took a few steps toward Ryoma and looked him in the eyes, very carefully.

"Don't ask him yourself. Don't make him tell you."

"Why not?" Ryoma couldn't help asking, but only in a whisper, trying to avert his gaze from those dull green eyes.

"It will break your heart."

It was said so softly, so seriously, that Ryoma almost thought he had imagined it. And yet, even though he had no idea what the former vice captain was talking about, he felt a sharp pang in his chest, like a foreshadowing of the very event Oishi was warning him against.

"Oishi-senpai…" He wanted to ask him more about Tezuka, try to understand what he was hearing, but somehow, he couldn't. And so he asked something else instead, another question that kept echoing in his mind every time he looked at his senpai, every time he saw those vacant, colorless eyes.

"Oishi-senpai, why did you leave Eiji-senpai?"

He saw it. He saw those eyes shatter for a moment, letting something of their former emerald glow flash behind the dim facade. But Oishi walked away, quickly, heading toward the door, before Ryoma could even attempt to read the emotion in those eyes.

"Oishi-senpai!" He followed right after the former vice captain, reaching out and grabbing onto his arm before he could leave.

His senpai didn't struggle or try to break free. But he didn't look at Ryoma, either. He just stood there, completely still.

"Oishi-senpai, tell me the truth. Eiji-senpai says you hated him, that you didn't even look at him when you left. What happened?" demanded Ryoma insistently.

Oishi laughed then, a slightly hollow laugh that made Ryoma shudder.

"Did Eiji say that?" he asked in a low tone. "That's so like him…"

…

Suddenly, Ryoma wasn't so sure that gold could shatter after all.

If gold could shatter, then why had Oishi said Eiji's name with such tenderness, as though it were a sacred word that he could hardly bear to say out loud?

"Oishi-senpai…" Ryoma felt his arm fall back to his side, but Oishi didn't try to run away.

"I don't hate him," said that quiet, tense voice.

…

Later that night, Ryoma would lie awake in his bed for hours, with his thoughts rambling a mile a minute. He would wonder more than once if he had just imagined what the former vice captain had said to him before he had left the room. But the more Ryoma questioned it, the more he was sure that it couldn't be questioned.

No, Oishi really had said it, with so much emotion in his voice that it had to have been the absolute truth.

…

"I love him. I'm in love with Eiji. That's why I left. Because he could never love me."

- - - - - - - -

Inui sat in front of his laptop, trying for the millionth time to re-enter the data, trying to check the assumptions for any errors. He kept thinking that there must be errors, that the data had to be a mistake, but it wasn't.

And he simply had no idea what to make of it.

"What are you doing, senpai?" Kaidoh came up behind him, taking a look at the screen for himself. But he couldn't make any sense whatsoever of the seemingly random numbers and the corresponding analyses.

"Oh, Kaidoh." Inui turned and accepted the glass of water that his roommate held out to him. "Thank you. I was just trying to analyze the probability of some assumptions… It's nothing very important."

"Uh, I see. Well, I'm going to go work out now. Give me a call if something comes up."

For the most part, Kaidoh had long since given up trying to comprehend how Inui's calculations worked. So he figured it was best not to ask and headed for the door instead.

"Alright, I will," Inui responded after a moment, somewhat absently, almost too late for Kaidoh to hear it as he shut the door behind him.

Inui hesitantly tried to change a few of the formulas, but he gave up and erased the changes, instead closing out of the program and sighing to himself.

"The logic is flawless. I can't find any reason to doubt the conclusions."

He frowned.

"The signs all point to extremely poor health. But how can that be without external causes?"

He thought for a moment, cupping his chin in his hand with a thoughtful expression.

Just as he was about to open up the document again, having changed his mind about one of the assumptions in that last formula, the phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, Momoshiro, it's you. So, what's the plan for today? … Yes, I believe so. Alright, we'll be there as soon as we can."

Inui hung up the phone again, thinking to himself for a moment. And then he turned off his laptop and slipped it back inside his travel bag.

"It doesn't do any good to analyze it anyway," he said to the empty room. "There's nothing I can do about it. But maybe it will be alright. Echizen's here, after all."

- - - - - - - -

Having lunch with everyone together had been awkward, at least from Ryoma's perspective. He still hadn't gotten the hang of acting like everything was normal, like all of them sitting together after five years and talking of trivial things like classes and old acquaintances was something to be expected. And yet, beyond a few meaningful glances from Momo and a few failed attempts to steer the conversation into more dangerous territory, the chatter really had been nothing but commonplace.

Ryoma was starting to wonder if it was something about the group setting that was doing it. After all, he only found out the most important things when it was just him and one of his senpais talking together, out of the earshot of others. When they were all together, no one bothered to say anything that mattered.

Ryoma couldn't help asking himself why that was.

_Maybe they're scared. They're scared they'll break something if they go too far._

_They went five whole years without talking about it, after all. Why not avoid it for another day?_

"Hey, Echizen." A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts as he walked along. Ryoma looked up to see Momo's violet eyes smiling down at him.

"Uh… yeah, Momo-senpai?" Ryoma was somewhat inarticulate, having been startled out of his train of thought.

"You aren't busy this afternoon or anything, are you?"

_There's that question again. What, do they think I came back to Japan to go sightseeing?_

_Seriously, mada mada dane._

"No, I'm free," Ryoma said, trying to be polite anyway, even if the question was ridiculous.

"Well, Fuji-senpai was saying something about hanging out together for the rest of the day," Momo explained cheerfully. "And of course we can't all be together without you, you know!"

At that, Momo took it upon himself to grab Ryoma by the neck and muss his hair, just like old times.

Well, it should have been like old times, Ryoma thought, but something about it made him decidedly uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that Momo just seemed so _carefree_, in spite of the fact that it felt like the whole world was falling apart all around them, and really it was just so ridiculous…

For whatever reason, Ryoma found himself pulling away from those strong arms, and all of a sudden, his face felt hot and he couldn't look at his senpai.

What in the… What was _wrong_ with him?

"Ah, Echizen---?" For a moment, Momo looked perplexed, and then he just shrugged a little. "So, you'll tag along, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Ryoma mumbled, still avoiding the gaze of those purple eyes. Whatever was wrong with him, he certainly didn't want Momo noticing it.

"Hey, Fuji-senpai, Ryoma's gonna come too!" Momo called out, running up ahead to catch up with the tensai, who was walking at the front with Tezuka on one side and Taka on the other.

"Oh, is that right?" Ryoma heard that beautiful voice respond amiably, his usual mask of a smile visible as he turned his head toward Momo.

But for a split second, that mask dropped when Momo wasn't looking, and suddenly those stunning blue eyes were staring right at Ryoma.

And Ryoma was positive that Fuji, who up until now had looked so angelic to his unaccustomed eyes, was absolutely smirking at him.

…

"_Echizen… whatever you do, stay away from Fuji, okay?"_

…

Ryoma blinked in surprise, chills running up and down his spine. But the expression had vanished instantly, and the tensai wasn't even looking at him anymore.

… Had he just imagined it? Maybe Oishi's warning last night had gotten to him.

Oishi.

Now there was another thing he couldn't get out of his mind.

For what felt like the thousandth time, he glanced over at the former vice captain, who was trailing behind the group and looking very alone.

Ryoma had already decided that the secret that Oishi had told him the night before must have been the truth. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It was shocking, certainly. But it was _Oishi-senpai_, after all. Oishi may not have been a cold person, but he was certainly selfless. And to lock away his own feelings and avoid Eiji for fear of hurting him? That was exactly like Oishi, no matter how Ryoma looked at it. If Oishi really did love Eiji, then that was something he would do, without a doubt. Ryoma was sure that must have been why Oishi left for England. He had been in love with Eiji, and he couldn't bear to tell him, and so… he left Japan. He left Eiji. For Eiji's sake.

_Oishi-senpai… you said if I asked Tezuka-buchou what happened, it would break my heart._

… _But what kind of heartbreak have you gone through, all by yourself?_

Ryoma knew now, of course. He knew why Oishi looked like he had been sick. It sounded so overly dramatic, like something out of a soap opera, but the former vice captain had been suffering from heartache. Even if it was cliche, that had to be why. Ryoma was sure of it.

But there was something Ryoma wasn't so sure of.

… Was it really the best thing for Eiji, for Oishi to never tell him how he felt?

Especially if gold couldn't really be shattered after all…?

Quietly, Ryoma came alongside Oishi and looked at him for a moment. Then he spoke up calmly, addressing his former teammate.

"Oishi-senpai, are you okay?"

Oishi looked surprised, as though he hadn't even heard Ryoma approach him, but he just smiled and answered, "Yes, I'm fine, Echizen."

Ryoma quickly glanced around at the rest of the group, but they were all absorbed in their own conversations. And Ryoma figured he should probably make the best of this coincidence.

"Oishi-senpai, you should say something to Eiji-senpai," he said firmly.

"I can't," Oishi protested in a low voice, looking around for himself to make sure no one was listening. And Ryoma suddenly felt deeply sorry for him, seeing his senpai so obviously depressed about the whole subject.

"Why can't you? Eiji-senpai was really upset when you left. You should at least let him know you still care…"

"I know he was upset," Oishi interrupted, still very softly. "But don't you understand, Echizen? That's why I had to leave. It's easier if I never make amends, if he keeps on hating me for it… because otherwise he'd keep relying on me like he used to, and…"

Oishi paused a moment and coughed suddenly, to Ryoma's surprise.

"Oishi-senpai, are you actually sick?"

"No, no, I'm fine. It's just allergies…" Oishi frowned for a moment. "Or maybe I'm getting a cold. I don't know…"

There was a fragile kind of pause.

"What was I saying?" Oishi said out of the blue, looking confused.

"You were saying something about Eiji-senpai, about how he relied on you," Ryoma offered, still unable to ignore the fact that Oishi looked really pale in the bright sunlight.

"Oh, right… and that, that is, I couldn't stand that… Because, you know, when he and I were so close in high school… Well, at first I was happy, but then I realized that he didn't really care about me… At least, not like that, and anyway, I could never actually say that I…"

He coughed again, and Ryoma was starting to feel somewhat alarmed at the unfocused expression on Oishi's face.

"HEY, OCHIBI!"

Ryoma felt as though his heart had actually leaped out of his chest when two arms suddenly grabbed him from behind.

"Uh… Eiji-senpai? What are you---?" Ryoma couldn't help feeling confused. What was Eiji doing, glomping him like that out of nowhere? After all, he'd just been talking about him, and besides, Oishi was probably uncomfortable…

"I wanted to show you something. Come on, look at this store over here---!"

Eiji was about to drag him down the street in his usual forceful way, when Ryoma finally managed to voice some kind of protest, inarticulate though it was.

"But, Eiji-senpai, I was just talking with him…"

There was a pause, but it lasted only a moment.

"Him who?" Eiji asked coldly, not even looking at his former doubles partner.

… It had been such a cold voice, without any feeling at all…

For a moment, Ryoma couldn't breathe. The strangest feeling came over him in that instant. It was as though he suddenly felt that it was his own heart that was aching, that it was him that Eiji was rejecting. It was as if, for a moment, he saw through Oishi's eyes, and suddenly he understood everything.

Absolutely everything.

What it would be like to slowly fall in love with someone for five years, and to know full well that they didn't love you back…

To watch helplessly while that person flirted with other people, trying to catch the wandering eyes of others, completely uninterested in your own affection…

To get so desperate about it that you just couldn't stand to be near them anymore, that you had to escape from being so close to them, every single day…

To have to lie to yourself and tell yourself that they would be just fine without you, that it would be better if you went away for good…

And then to actually have to learn to live without them, knowing that they were miserable too.

It happened so quickly that Ryoma thought maybe he was dreaming, when he turned back to Oishi, to tell him that he understood now… and saw the former vice captain lying on the ground.

"Oishi-senpai?" The blank tone of Ryoma's voice caught even Eiji's attention, despite the fact that the redhead had sworn that he was going to ignore Oishi for the rest of the trip, despite the fact that he was angry at Oishi and was never, ever going to forgive him…

Despite that, they both gazed with the same muted horror at Oishi, who had collapsed on the sidewalk.

"Oishi-senpai… Oishi-senpai…!" Ryoma wrenched himself away from Eiji's grasp and fell to his knees, gently shaking the former vice captain, trying to revive him.

Eiji just looked, staring at that face. Oishi was so pale… he looked like he could be dead…

Was he actually _dead_?

_Oh, God…_

_No… please, no…_

…

"_Don't cry. You know it'll be fine, right? I'll write you all the time. You'll even forget I'm gone before long. I know you'll be just fine. Really, you will. Just wait and see."_

…

Eiji could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Why? Why was he crying? He was mad at Oishi. He hated Oishi for leaving him… he wasn't going to cry, but…

_Liar! You liar!_

_Oh, God… Oishi…!_

"NO!" he yelled, not caring who heard him, lunging at the fallen form that had once been his doubles partner, his best friend, the person who had meant so much to him… he caught that person up in his arms, and he held him, and he could feel those tears starting to pour down his face, and well…

He didn't care. He didn't care who saw. Because it was Oishi, and Oishi hadn't really been dead, after all. He hadn't _really_ gone away forever when he left for England… He couldn't have, because otherwise the idea of Oishi leaving him for good wouldn't make him cry like this…

Ryoma vaguely understood that Eiji was holding Oishi next to him, and that the others had realized what had happened and were gathering around them.

"What happened?" a voice asked somewhere above Ryoma's head. He thought maybe it was Momo's.

"It looks like he fainted," Inui's voice observed, almost too quickly.

Suddenly Ryoma saw someone kneel on the other side of Oishi, and the tennis star found himself face to face with Tezuka, who was looking at Oishi with a great deal of concern in those sharp amber eyes.

"It's probably exhaustion," he said quietly. "Oishi hasn't slept for two days straight, and he wasn't feeling well on the plane…"

The former captain reached out to feel Oishi's forehead, but Eiji suddenly slapped his hand away.

"Don't you touch him!" the redhead scowled, eyes still watering. "I don't want you anywhere near him! He doesn't need you! Go away!"

There was a pause as everyone stared, shocked.

"Eiji…" Tezuka gazed at him, looking as though he wanted to say something. But Ryoma saw Fuji come up from behind and grip Tezuka on the shoulder. And just like that, Tezuka stood up again and backed away.

But Ryoma couldn't tear his eyes away from the captain, and in that moment, Tezuka glanced back at the teenage tennis star, and their eyes met.

And for the first time, Ryoma could see a tiny piece of why those golden eyes were so shattered.

There was guilt in those eyes. Guilt for what had happened to Oishi.

… But why? What had Tezuka done to Oishi?

Even though the world seemed silent in Ryoma's ears, he was vaguely aware that people around him were moving, trying to help Eiji hoist Oishi up from the ground.

The next thing he knew, he could hear Momo saying something to Eiji, as the power player lifted his unconscious senpai with his own strong arms so that he could carry him.

"… Could take him back to our apartment. He'll be alright if someone keeps an eye on him."

"Let me go along," Ryoma pleaded suddenly. "Just for a little bit."

They all looked surprised to hear the tennis star make such an offer out of the blue. But Eiji glanced at Momo and then he nodded.

"You can come if you want, Ochibi. I don't mind."

"But, Eiji…" Taka started to protest, looking very worried, when Momo interrupted.

"Okay, we'll take Oishi back to our apartment so he can rest. We'll meet up with you guys in the shopping district later. I'll call Taka's cell when we're on our way back."

And with that, Momo gave a general nod to the group and started carrying Oishi back down the street, with Eiji and Ryoma right behind him.

Those who were remaining looked almost stunned, but after a few moments glanced at each other and started heading the opposite direction, not knowing what else to do.

As they walked along, Ryoma saw the way Eiji wiped the last few tears from his eyes, and the way he couldn't take his eyes off of his former doubles partner.

And finally he knew it for a fact.

Gold _didn't_ shatter.

It just didn't.

**-end of chapter eleven-**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** (1) 10,000 yen is about 100 US dollars. In case you were wondering, lol.

_A/N: Yay! I actually got this chapter done when I promised I would! Well, some pretty big things certainly happened in this chapter, didn't they? O.O Wow. Oddly enough, it was a very Golden Pair-centric chapter… That wasn't entirely planned when I started it, but I realized it was the best way to fit in the sequence of events. But fear not! The bet between Fuji and Momo is in the next chapter. And that's certainly going to be interesting… XD_

_My plan is to have Chapter 12 up sometime during the weekend. (Probably on Saturday, although I'll try for Friday, if possible. Since I know the suspense is killing everyone!) Well, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 11. **Please let me know what you thought of the new chapter!** But the best is yet to come, of course… ;)_

_(By the way, I think I got a couple more questions in the reviews last time, but I need to post this asap so I'll answer those questions in the next chapter. Sorry about that! XD)_

_**Coming Up Next:** Oishi wakes up from his state of unconsciousness to find himself in Eiji's apartment, and Ryoma rejoins the rest of the group in time to discover that Fuji and Momo are planning to do something very out of the ordinary…_


	12. Chapter 12: Bet Your Heart

**Chapter Twelve: Bet Your Heart**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … as you may have already guessed.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twelve! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/flamers don't get to drink Ponta. **Lol.

Wow, chapter twelve already? I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks again so much to ALL my wonderful reviewers… You guys are awesome. I can't tell you how much you encourage me to keep this story going! XD Special thanks as always to **chibiukyou**, whose reviews never fail to crack me up, and also to **Fubaki Sakura**, who won't be able to read this until she gets back from her trip. (I hope you like it when you do get to read it!) **Let me know what you all think of chapter twelve!**

* * *

"_Please don't leave me."_

_That was all I really wanted to say._

_I never even realized it, until I thought I would lose you forever…_

_It was the hope that I'd see you again that kept me alive._

…

Eiji was already on the phone within a minute of their arrival at the apartment. Momo had set his senpai down on the couch, keeping his head as level with his body as possible. Ryoma just watched while his former teammates bustled around the room, first grabbing a blanket, now soaking a rag in cool water, then hanging up the phone…

"Who did you call, Kikumaru-senpai?" Ryoma was somewhat confused.

"Oh, just Oishi's uncle," Eiji replied quickly, glancing in Ryoma's direction. "I asked him what to do… He's going to come by here tomorrow if Oishi isn't much better by then."

"Oishi's uncle?" Ryoma repeated.

"He's a doctor," Eiji explained briefly, picking up the blanket.

There was a pause as Ryoma thought for a moment. Eiji shook out the blanket and spread it over his unconscious friend. Ryoma couldn't help noticing that Eiji's eyes looked much softer now, as though the reality of Oishi's condition had melted the coldness out of them.

"Kikumaru-senpai, you're calling him 'Oishii' again," Ryoma observed at last, very quietly.

At first, Eiji didn't respond, but then he sighed and said, "It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

Ryoma was so quick to protest that he caught the attention of both Eiji and Momo, both of whom looked rather perplexed.

"What do you mean, Ochibi?" Eiji asked, blinking.

Ryoma looked over at Oishi, who was breathing softly and had a very calm expression on his pale face.

"It's very important. Especially to Oishi-senpai, I'm sure," Ryoma answered calmly, taking a few steps closer to where the former captain lay. He was still looking down at those closed eyes, and noticing how the lines had smoothed out of that forehead that only an hour ago had been knit together with a thousand worries.

"Kikumaru-senpai, Oishi-senpai really cares about you."

At that, Ryoma looked up again, firmly gazing into Eiji's dark blue eyes.

"Don't ever forget that, okay?"

For a moment, Eiji seemed as though he was about to protest this assertion, but then he just nodded and murmured, "Okay. I won't."

"We should get going, Momo-senpai," Ryoma said suddenly, turning to his other former teammate.

"We should---?" Momo looked as though he didn't follow Ryoma's train of thought at first, but then he smiled knowingly. "Oh, you're right. We should. You're okay by yourself, right, Eiji-senpai?"

At first, Eiji looked like he was anything but okay, as though the idea of being alone with an unconscious Oishi scared him all of a sudden. But then he took a deep breath and nodded.

"Sure, I'll be okay. I'll call you if anything happens."

"Please do, Eiji-senpai."

And with that, both Ryoma and Momo walked out the door, with the latter giving his roommate a cheerful wave as he left. As they started down the hallway to the elevator, Momo couldn't resist giving Ryoma a conspiring grin and a nudge on the shoulder.

"You troublemaker! You planned that, didn't you?"

"I didn't plan it exactly," Ryoma replied slowly, smiling just a little bit. "But they need to be alone for awhile. And I'm sure there's no one else Oishi-senpai would rather be with, anyway."

"And how do you know that?" Momo demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a secret," Ryoma said in a light, knowing tone that was tantalizingly annoying.

"You little brat," was all Momo could say to that, but he honestly couldn't wipe the grin off of his face.

_Really, what a guy…_

_No, really, what a guy._

- - - - - - - - -

Tezuka was sitting, blankly staring into space, hardly comprehending all the noise around him. Something inside him couldn't forget that look on Oishi's face, when he'd been lying there on the pavement, unconscious. It sent a shudder through his mind, one full of irrational fear.

_I wonder if that was how Oishi felt when I was lying there, on that night…_

He knew he shouldn't be thinking about _that_, of course. He hadn't thought about it for the longest time, until only two days ago when Oishi had told him the news, that Echizen had returned to Japan. And now he couldn't get it off his mind.

_It's because I have to tell him. Sooner or later, he's going to ask…_

… _And then I'll have to tell him…_

"Tezuka?" He felt slender fingers pressing against his hand, and looked up to see Fuji's usual mask of an expression smiling at him. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm… worried about Oishi," Tezuka managed at last, swallowing hard, wishing that Fuji would stop smiling already when he knew it was so ridiculously fake.

"About Oishi? He'll be fine. Eiji's with him now." Fuji slipped a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and grasped one of the papery rolls between his thumb and index finger.

"Unlike when he was with you, you know," the tensai added in a low tone, flicking the tip of his lighter and catching the flame on the end of the cigarette. "You couldn't do anything for him."

"I know that," Tezuka muttered back, only to be interrupted by Taka, who was sitting across from them in the long restaurant-style booth.

"Um, Fuji?"

"Yes, Taka-san?" Fuji asked innocently as he put the cigarette to his mouth and took a deep breath, exhaling the smoke from between his lips, as though he were kissing the air.

"Do you… I mean, that is… Well, when did you start smoking, anyway?" Taka finally managed, stammering and looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Ah, this?" Fuji chuckled lightly. "Since I went over to Paris. Everyone does it over there, you know."

"It's still extremely unhealthy," Inui observed frankly, frowning and waving his hand in front of his nose, trying to ward off the smoke.

Fuji laughed again, lightly, much too lightly.

"I beg your pardon. But we are in a bar, you know."

"You mean, there is a bar in here," Inui corrected, glancing around him. It was true, granted. There was a bar at the other end of the restaurant, but for the most part, it was just a regular dining place.

"Anyway, I asked for the smoking section," Fuji protested, sounding oddly carefree.

"I think the whole place is a smoking section," Inui mumbled, subsiding into silence. He was presently thinking that Kaidoh had the right idea when he had escaped by excusing himself to the restroom.

"Oh, look, they've returned," Fuji suddenly remarked, his smile widening into a sparkling grin. He waved, gesturing the newcomers over. "Echizen! Momoshiro! We're over here!"

"Um, hey, Fuji-senpai," Momo replied, taking a look around. "Interesting choice for dinner."

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," Fuji said pleasantly. "I wanted to come here for old time's sake."

He paused for a moment, savoring the unspoken question that was hanging on everyone's lips.

"This was the first place that I got dead drunk, after all."

_Priceless, really. They all look so shocked._

"Um… come again, Fuji-senpai?" Momo was frowning. He didn't like the way that smile on Fuji's face had suddenly become almost gleeful.

"Oh, it's nothing," Fuji said somewhat dismissively, taking another draught from the smoldering cigarette. "Everyone does a few stupid things when they're a teenager, right?"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Oh…" Fuji spoke up again as though he'd just remembered something. "I guess that's not quite true."

He looked straight at Ryoma, opening his eyes and sending an electric blue shock through the younger boy's veins.

"I'm sure Echizen has never done a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g stupid," he corrected himself in a singsong voice. "Right, Echizen?"

"Fuji-senpai, what are you---"

But before Ryoma could actually reply to the tensai's strange question, Momo interrupted with a firm, "Well, why don't we sit down?"

"Please do."

At that reponse from Fuji, Momo squeezed into one side of the booth, with Ryoma sliding in on the other side.

"Is Oishi alright?" Taka asked quietly, completely changing the subject.

"Yeah, he should be fine," Momo answered readily, giving his friend a cheerful smile. "He was breathing normally when we left, and he looked better already. I think he's just tired. Eiji's keeping an eye on him now."

"That's good," Taka said, replying to Momo's smile with one of his own. Ryoma couldn't help noticing the look that passed between them, and he wondered if maybe his former teammates had already guessed at what Ryoma knew to be the truth.

_It would be like Taka-san and Momo-senpai to already know…_

… _They've always been really good friends to everyone._

Ryoma found himself getting lost in thought for a moment, and so he was startled when Inui nudged him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, Echizen. Would you mind letting me out for a moment?"

"Ah, sure…" At that, Ryoma slid back out of the booth and stood aside as his senpai got up and walked toward the back of the restaurant.

"He's probably going to find Kaidoh," Fuji observed smugly. "Since after all he's been 'in the restroom' for over twenty minutes."

"That doesn't surprise me," Momo commented dryly, wrinkling his nose at the cloud of smoke that was lingering around the table.

"Oh, you still know him so well, Momo? Now _that_ surprises _me_," Fuji remarked, blowing the smoke out from his mouth again almost spitefully.

"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Momo, looking right at Fuji.

"Nothing in particular. Say, Taka-san, would you mind playing a game with me?"

"Huh?" Taka glanced toward where Fuji was gesturing, and noticed the billiard table over by the bar. "Oh, at billiards? Well, I don't know…"

"Oh, come on, it will be fun! Let's go!" And Fuji crushed the tip of the cigarette between his fingers and carelessly dropped it in the ashtray in front of him.

When the minor confusion that ensued had subsided, Ryoma found himself sitting directly across from both Tezuka and Momo, with an unusually awkward kind of silence hanging in the air. Tezuka watched the cigarette in the ashtray absently, watching as the grayish white smoke curled upward above their heads.

"You know," Momo said finally, looking at Ryoma. "I think I'll go give Eiji-senpai a call. I'll be right back, okay?"

He stared very intently into those golden eyes, and Ryoma wondered what it was that he was trying to tell him in that moment…

But he was gone before Ryoma could decide what that look meant.

The tennis star turned back to where Tezuka sat, right in front of him, looking at the smoke.

"Buchou…"

He finally said it, softly, catching the attention of those wandering eyes that gleamed behind two lenses.

"Yes, Echizen?" It was a mundane reply, but there was something in that deep voice that lingered in Ryoma's ears, full of a hidden emotion that Ryoma couldn't quite identify.

"I…" Ryoma began to speak and discovered that he didn't really know what he had been going to say. There was a strange kind of pause, one where their eyes simply stared into each other, searching for something that wasn't really there.

"I need to ask you something," he managed finally, transfixed by those amber eyes that always burned so clearly in his memories.

"I know," Tezuka murmured, to Ryoma's surprise.

In that instant, a slight movement from Tezuka's hand caught Ryoma's eye, a tiny involuntary twitch where the right hand grasped onto the left arm for a moment.

It was then that Ryoma realized that the former captain was wearing long sleeves during summer, very long sleeves that completely covered his arm up to the wrist and were firmly secured with a shirtcuff. Ryoma wondered why he hadn't noticed this before. It seemed odd… very odd…

And then a thought occurred to him.

It was to hide something.

"Buchou, is your arm---?"

Impulsively, Ryoma reached his hand out across the table, toward that left arm… Just as quickly, Tezuka moved and put up his hand to stop him.

Their hands met, and their fingers slid past each other, hanging still in the air. And they just sat there, too stunned to move, hands clasped together over the table.

Some part of Ryoma was trembling, somewhere inside of him, at the electricity he could feel flowing through their fingers. It was frightening, breathtaking, not altogether unpleasant but not quite a nice feeling either…

But when Tezuka's hand shifted, as though he was going to let go, he couldn't help exclaiming, "Don't! … not yet…"

"Echizen…" Tezuka just gazed at the tennis star, a hint of confusion flickering behind his glasses.

…

_CLINK! THUNK, THUD._

Fuji grimaced as he watched the cue ball glance off of the eight ball. A terrible shot, of course…

But why would it be a good shot when he could see everything that was going on in that booth? Those looks, the clasped hands…

_I knew it._

_Momoshiro, you're out of your mind._

He had seen the whole thing, of course. The way Momo dismissed himself from the table, giving Ryoma and Tezuka the chance to be alone. The awkward pause between the two as Ryoma searched for what he wanted to say. And then, that moment, where their hands had touched…

_You're a fool, Momo. And don't think I'll let you off easy for it._

It was his turn again. Fuji aimed carefully, a spark in his blue eyes, and angled the shot off the eight ball just right, causing it to collide with the nine ball, which slid as smooth as velvet into the side pocket.

"Well, that's the game," he said cheerfully, hiding his eyes again and smiling at Taka.

"No surprise there," Taka answered good-naturedly, putting away his cuestick. "You're the tensai, after all."

Fuji's smile melted away for a moment, and he actually looked somewhat depressed.

"You're always too kind to me, Taka-san," he murmured, just barely catching his friend's attention.

"Huh? What are you talking about, Fuji?" Taka asked quietly, noticing the tensai's expression with a pang of regret. There was something about the moments, few and far in between though they were, when Fuji allowed his smile to disappear… Those moments always made Taka's heart ache for his friend.

He still remembered other times, long ago, when Fuji had let him see his smile fade away…

He knew, of course. He knew all about the tensai's mask. He knew better than anyone… but it was a secret he never intended to reveal. He was pretty sure that no one else would understand. But even so, lately he couldn't help wishing that he could explain to Echizen what he knew about Fuji…

"It's nothing, really," Fuji answered at last, putting on his smile again. "Do you want to play another round?"

"Ah, that's okay," Taka said slowly. "We should probably be getting back to the others now."

"Mm. You're probably right. You go ahead, Taka-san," Fuji agreed readily enough, absently fingering the chalk and scraping it against the end of his cuestick. "I'll be along in a second."

Taka nodded, and Fuji watched as his friend went to join the other two at the booth. Ryoma and Tezuka had long since let go of each other's hands, but there was a distinct expression of discomfort on both their faces, even as Ryoma tried to make something resembling normal conversation with Taka.

_They're so alike. It's ridiculous._

_He's just like Tezuka used to be… before everything fell apart…_

_Damn you for that, Echizen._

Fuji frowned to himself, knowing full well that no one was there to see it.

He didn't like this. He didn't like where this was going at all. He had known it was coming, but he still didn't like it. And that feeling was starting to grasp at his mind and loosen the fragile threads of logic that kept his capacity for rational thought held together.

It was the loosening of those thin strings that was giving those voices the power to speak again, to come through the cloudy fog that usually hung about his thoughts…

_You know what's going to happen, don't you?_

_He's going to take him away from you._

_That's right. You're going to lose him._

_Just like you lost your little brother…_

…

The colors of the room had shifted within Fuji's eyes, and an aura of pure red was melting across Ryoma's face, lending his pure, golden eyes a strangely demonic sparkle.

Fuji tossed the chalk back onto the pool table and replaced the cuestick on the rack, every ounce of tension he was feeling written clearly across his face. And then he took a deep breath, and the threads tightened again, just enough to bind his train of thought together as he watched Momoshiro re-enter the restaurant.

_Alright then. Here's my little contribution._

_I'll show you what fools you both are._

_That's right, Momoshiro. You're first._

…

"Oh, Momo, you're back," a nonchalant voice observed, catching Momo's attention. He turned to see Fuji taking a few steps toward him, with the usual smile on his face.

"Where were you?" that same silky voice asked, in a pleasant tone that didn't fool Momo in the least. He played along anyway, though.

"Ah, I went out to give Eiji a call. He says Oishi still hasn't woken up yet," he explained briefly, shrugging a litte. "I hope he's okay."

"He'll be alright, I'm sure," Fuji responded, letting a vague hint of irony come into his voice. "He's with his Eiji, after all."

For a moment, Momoshiro frowned. He didn't like the sarcasm that had lingered in that comment.

"You sound like you don't like the idea," he observed finally.

"It's not that, exactly." Fuji just waved his hand in a careless gesture, dismissing the accusation. "Oishi just doesn't deserve him, that's all."

"Fuji-senpai, what do you---"

"It doesn't matter," the tensai interrupted lightly. Suddenly, his expression changed completely. His eyes opened, and his smile broke into a shining white grin.

"I believe we have some unfinished business, Momoshiro."

Momo felt himself stiffen, not liking that wild gleam in those eyes, but he met his former teammate's sky blue gaze. It was so strange, to be looking down at someone and to feel as though they were the one looking down at you…

"I guess you're right. Although I still don't know what you meant last night," Momo said slowly, letting his words trail off into nothing.

"What I meant? Well, then, let me explain."

But instead of standing still while giving his reply, the tensai began to walk away, with Momo following him closely, trying to catch what he was saying.

"It's a bet, Momoshiro. A deal, if you will. Since you so obviously want me to stay away from dear little Echizen, I'll comply. If you can beat me, that is," came the dangerously smug explanation, as Fuji stopped in front of the bar counter.

"Beat you? At what?" Momoshiro's confusion remained unanswered, however, as Fuji caught the attention of the bartender and muttered something to him that the younger of the two didn't catch.

"It's a simple contest, that's all. If you win, I won't even go near Echizen without appropriate supervision." Fuji chuckled a little, finding the idea amusing.

"Wait… and if I lose?" Momoshiro asked suddenly, realizing he hadn't heard the other side to the deal.

"If you lose…" Fuji's eyes glinted and bore right into Momoshiro's purple ones. "If you lose, I will do whatever I want with him tonight, and you aren't allowed to stop me."

"Whatever you want? Fuji-senpai, you wouldn't actually---"

Fuji interrupted Momo's indignant protest with a quick rebuttal. "It's not what you're thinking. I just want to have a little talk with him. That's all."

Momo wanted to ask what he was going to talk to Ryoma about, but in that instant, the bartender returned with two shotglasses. Momo watched as he set them down on the counter, and then a flash of understanding came into his eyes.

"Fuji-senpai… we aren't going to…"

"That's right," Fuji said with an almost cheerful smile, even though his eyes were still open. "We're going to have a little contest to settle this. It's not your first time having alcohol, is it?"

Momo couldn't take his eyes off the shotglasses. He finally admitted, "Well, no. I mean, I've been with some college friends before and… But I'm still a year underage, you know. And it's never been hard liquor, either…"

"So you don't accept the challenge?" Fuji inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I assure you, they won't card you here."

"I'm sure you'd know," Momo agreed almost faintly, thinking for a moment. But then his expression changed, and he smiled dangerously. "Alright, I accept. But you're putting yourself at a disadvantage, aren't you, Fuji-senpai?"

"Am I?" the tensai questioned, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Well, you're a lot smaller than I am," said his former teammate, still grinning.

"Mm, that's true enough," Fuji agreed, much too calmly. He reached out and ran his index finger around the rim of the glass, glancing again at Momo. "Well, shall we?"

"Ready when you are," was Momo's answer, as they both picked up their glasses and put them to their lips.

- - - - - - - -

_Don't die._

_Please don't die._

_I couldn't go on without you._

…

Oishi thought that he had woken up, only to find that he must have been in another dream. He was in a room he didn't recognize, and it was dark outside, but inside the room it was full of light. He could hear someone nearby, in what he guessed was the kitchen, moving things around. There was a delicious smell lingering in the air. It had been a long time since he'd been in a place that had been as warm and homey as this one. And so…

And so he had to have been dreaming.

Especially when the person who came into the room turned out to be Eiji.

Oishi sat straight up, surprised, but Eiji just observed quietly, "Oh, you're awake."

"Awake? I'm not dreaming?" Oishi asked, sounding confused.

"Dreaming? No, you're in my apartment. You collapsed while we were walking around, remember?" Eiji sat down on a chair next to the couch, looking very intently at Oishi, trying to understand the expression on his face. He couldn't tell if Oishi was happy or upset, but he wished that he could...

"Collapsed?" Oishi repeated, shocked. He thought for a moment. "Oh… that's right. I remember. Echizen was saying something, and then everything went black…"

He trailed off for a moment, with Eiji still watching him intently, but then Oishi stiffened and started peeling the blanket off of him.

"Well, I'm sorry for troubling you like this," he murmured, about to get up from the couch.

Suddenly, he felt two hands on his shoulders, who insistently pushed him back down. It was Eiji, who firmly replaced the blanket and reached for a pillow to put under Oishi's head.

"Eiji---?"

"No, you don't," Eiji said with a frown. "You're not going anywhere. You're still sick. I won't let you get up, so don't even try."

"But I---" Oishi tried to protest, but he was interrupted.

"No excuses. It's your own fault for not taking care of yourself." And Eiji sighed, completely exasperated. "This is so like you, Oishi! You're always so concerned about everyone else, but then you forget to take care of yourself, nya!"

There was a pause, while Eiji straightened one of the cushions.

"Eiji, did you just say---?" Somehow, Oishi couldn't quite finish the question, but he had certainly noticed it. He had heard the way Eiji pronounced his name, with the silly little emphasis on the 'i,' and he'd even heard Eiji tack that strange cat noise onto the last sentence.

But Eiji hadn't used any of those mannerisms for at least two years. What in the world…?

Eiji didn't seem to notice the unfinished question, though, and occupied himself in putting a hand to Oishi's forehead, frowning even more severely.

"You've even got a fever!" he exclaimed indignantly, peering closely into Oishi's eyes, trying to see if they looked clouded over.

Oishi knew it wasn't just the fever that was making his face turn bright red, but he tried not to think about the way his former doubles partner was standing so close to him, so close that he could just lean forward and kiss…

_Oh, God._

_Stop thinking about that! Just stop it!_

"Eiji," he said suddenly, trying to distract himself. "You really don't have to do all this for me."

"And why shouldn't I?" Eiji sat back down on the chair, looking confused.

"Because," Oishi replied softly, his cheeks still flaming red. "I left you behind, and I…"

Eiji interrupted him again, but this time, it was in a quieter tone, one Oishi had never heard Eiji use before. It was nothing like the cold tone he had used only hours before.

"It doesn't matter, okay? Not right now. We can talk about that some other time. Just… right now…"

His voice wavered, much to Oishi's surprise, and he thought he saw a faint mist around the corners of those deep blue eyes.

"Just right now, can we please forget about it?"

Without thinking, Oishi nodded quickly, filled only with the desire to do whatever those sweet eyes wanted.

Eiji took a deep breath and smiled a little, and his eyes cleared. "Okay then. Right now, I just want to make sure you get better, ny---"

But this time Eiji stopped himself before he make that odd cat noise, clapping a hand over his mouth, stunned. It was as though he'd only just noticed that he was saying it again.

After a moment, he removed his hand, but his cheeks had become a faint pink color.

"Ugh…" he mumbled. "Why am I saying _that_ again?"

He stood up, promptly changing the subject.

"Well, anyway, I have to go get something. I'll be right back, ny-… Agh! Oh, stop it already! Stupid!"

Oishi watched as Eiji turned around and retreated back into the kitchen, smacking himself on the side of the head as he left. And Oishi couldn't resist a smile, even though he wasn't quite sure what was wrong with the catlike redhead.

He listened for a moment, very intently, trying to hear what Eiji was doing just out of his sight, when he suddenly heard another cat noise.

"Meow."

Oishi sat up again and looked around, confused, trying to tell where the sound had come from. Then his eyes landed on the floor by the couch, only to see a little white kitten staring right up at him.

"Oh! That was you?" Oishi couldn't help laughing a little at how such a tiny fluffball had managed to startle him. "Where did you come from?"

At that, the kitten jumped up onto the couch right next to him, sniffing curiously at Oishi's hand and licking it a little.

"Stop that. It tickles," Oishi protested, unable to resist a smile. Finally he couldn't help himself and picked up the kitten, holding it against his chest. He hadn't even petted it, but he could feel it purring as it snuggled against him happily.

"You're a friendly little thing, aren't you?" Oishi observed affectionately, already feeling strangely attached to this tiny kitten that was whiter than snow.

He petted it for a while, liking the feeling of its soft fur against his fingertips. And the kitten purred right back, rubbing its head against Oishi's shirtfront.

"Sorry it took so long… I couldn't find the stupid ladle and---" Eiji came back into the kitchen with a bowl in his hands, only to stop and stare with some confusion at the sight of the cat cuddling in Oishi's arms.

"Ah, Shuuko-chan! What are you doing? Don't bother him!" Eiji set down the bowl on the coffee table and reached for the kitten, taking it out of Oishi's arms and putting it back on the floor again. It looked back up at Eiji, confusion in its big eyes. "Meow?"

"Well, you can't right now. Oishi has to eat, for one thing! Go on, I'll get you your dinner in a minute." Eiji shooed the cat away with his hand, not harshly but nevertheless firmly.

_Shuuko-chan?_

Oishi was decidedly startled for a moment upon hearing the cat's name. That had to have been a coincidence, right? But then again… knowing Eiji, maybe not…

"Okay, I brought you some soup," Eiji was saying, sitting down again and picking up the bowl. "Because you really have to eat something, you know."

"Oh, I don't know, Eiji…" Suddenly Oishi felt somewhat uncomfortable. Wasn't it weird, to be sitting like this in Eiji's apartment, with Eiji acting like his nurse? He was feeling better, and there was no reason to have anyone fussing over him like this…

As if in protest, his stomach suddenly growled, much to Eiji's amusment.

"See? You have to. Now open up!" And Eiji dipped a spoon into the bowl and held it out to Oishi.

Oishi blushed again and opened his mouth to say, "Eiji, you aren't actually going to---"

But before he could get beyond the first syllable, Eiji had slipped the spoon in between his lips. He held it there for a split second and then drew it out again, leaving Oishi to swallow.

Oishi should have protested. He should have told Eiji that he was well enough to eat by himself. He should have said that this was ridiculous, especially since it had been far too long since they'd been on comfortable terms with each other, and really, what in the world were they doing acting like nothing had ever happened…?

He should have. But he didn't. Instead, he kept opening his mouth compliantly, letting Eiji give him each and every spoonful until the bowl was empty. He let himself forget, in that room filled with golden light, why he was sick, why he shouldn't even be there. And he fell asleep again an hour later only to have the sweetest dreams of his life.

- - - - - - - -

Momo decided he had made a new discovery.

The ceiling could stand on its head.

Or, at least, that was what he was starting to believe, the way parts of the room seemed to be shifting freely in his currently blurred frame of mind.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing at that counter, raising that glass to his lips over and over, but there was no doubt it was going to his head. In a strange way, it wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling, not in and of itself. But he had the distinct feeling that he had been tricked into this, that somehow Fuji already knew exactly what was going to happen, and that he, Momo, was going to be the one to come out the worse for the deal.

He looked over at the tensai again, who looked perfectly at ease as he drank another shot like it was as mild as tapwater. Fuji set his glass down and gestured to the bartender for what seemed like the millionth time, telling him to refill it. And then he looked in Momo's direction, and those blue eyes seemed to Momo to glow with their own light.

_I'm so drunk._

"Are you alright there, Momo?" said Fuji's beautiful voice, sounding unusually light and airy.

"Ah… yeah, Fuji-senpai. I'm fine!" Momo insisted, making sure to carefully form the words so that they didn't come out all slurred together. He didn't really want Fuji to know he was drunk, even though he had a feeling the tensai had already guessed that much.

Supressing a sigh, he looked at the glass in front of him, took it up again, and drank the whole thing. The liquid was so bitter that part of him wanted to gag… he'd never really cared for alcohol, anyway…

But then came that flash through his brain, and that light feeling, like he was being carried away by golden wings, and then it wasn't so bad.

He glanced at Fuji again, who still looked perfectly fine, and wondered for the thousandth time where the tensai put it all. He knew that, all things being equal, smaller people had a harder time absorbing alcohol into their bloodstream. And so he couldn't imagine what kind of tolerance Fuji must have built up to be able to drink like this.

_When in the world did he become such a heavy drinker?_

… _Now, really, that's just creepy._

…

_How long are we going to keep this up?_

… _I'm going to lose, aren't I?_

For the first time in the drinking contest, Momo let his worries show on his face. He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer, or he was probably going to pass out. And he definitely didn't want to do that… especially not with Ryoma there…

Ryoma.

Suddenly, just thinking about the tennis star sent the strangest thoughts rushing through his brain, things he'd never thought about before. Things like Ryoma's eyes, and how he wished he could always look into them and never have to look away… and other things, things he wished that he could tell Ryoma, about how much he had missed him when he left, and how…

_What is wrong with me?_

… _I am so drunk_.

Fuji watched the rapidly changing expressions on Momo's face, staying absolutely silent, keeping his eyes intently fixed on his former teammate. His own mouth was neither smiling nor frowning, pressed tightly in the straightest line possible as he observed the younger man… But his blue eyes shone with mixed emotions, ones that he didn't even bother hiding now that he could see that his opponent was too far gone to notice.

_That's right, Momoshiro._

_I want you to understand what a fool you are._

_Don't you know how you feel about Echizen yet?_

_Well, I'm going to make you find out, before it's too late for the both of us._

With that, Fuji picked up his refilled glass yet again, raised it to his lips, and smiled as the legal poison poured down his throat.

**- end of chapter twelve –**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** The drinking age in Japan actually is 20, not 21, so I wrote this accordingly. Either way, Momo's underage... But as a college girl, I can tell you that doesn't always stop people from drinking. O.o I have no idea if they normally card people at restaurants in Japan, though... Lol.

_A/N: Oops, sorry if this was an evil cliffhanger… I didn't mean for it to be, but this chapter is very long already, lol. In any case, I hope you all enjoyed it! I know I enjoyed writing some of the surprises in it. It's weird how much alcohol I'm writing into this story, given that I hate the stuff, lol… But I promised it would be interesting, didn't I? XD And I put in some Golden Pair fluff for all you GP fans out there (I'm one of you!), so I hope you enjoyed that as well. Don't worry, though, you're still reading the same fic, and there is angst galore coming up!_

_I really hoped you all liked it, everyone! Sorry I could only get it up by Saturday, but I had to do some editing on it and it took me awhile. The next chapter will be up sometime during next week, although I can't promise when, since I have a big paper due. But I'll do my best!_

_**Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve!**_

_(And if you have any questions about this fic that you want answered, you can now visit my profile page, where I'll be linking a FAQ that I'm going to post on my website. That way, I don't have to write such long author notes, lol.)_

_**Coming Up Next:** The drinking contest comes to an end, and Ryoma finds himself face to face with the former tensai of Seigaku, who has decided to confront him about what happened in the past. Will Ryoma finally get the answers he wants, or just find nothing but trouble?_


	13. Chapter 13: For Every Action

**Chapter Thirteen: For Every Action**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Duh.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter thirteen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/flamers will be smacked with tennis racquets. **Lol.

Whew, it's finally chapter thirteen! Ironically enough, this is the perfect chapter to go with such an unlucky number. (You'll see why soon enough…) Well, I hope you enjoy it, everyone! And thank you so much, once again, for the amazing reviews. I'm still kind of shocked that so many people are still reading it, lol. Okay, on with the fic! **Let me know what you all think of chapter thirteen!**

* * *

_Tonight, I will make you understand…_

_I will make you face the nightmare we've been living._

_Yes, tonight I will tell you who is to blame…_

_Are you brave enough to face it?_

…

"Okay, I'm opening the door."

"You've got him, right?"

"Yeah, I've got him... Really, what was he thinking?"

A few stray murmurs suddenly caught Eiji's attention. He'd been sitting in the chair by the couch, flipping through a random magazine, when he'd noticed voices in the hallway. He heard the door open, and suddenly, there was Inui, Kaidoh, and Ryoma, standing in his doorway. And Inui was supporting Momo, all but carrying the younger man, who looking distinctly confused.

"Ya know, ya don't hafta carry me like this," Momo was mumbling, very inarticulately, with the syllables strung together as though he had forgotten how to talk.

Eiji blinked in surprise and stood up from the chair, coming over to his former teammates with a stunned look on his face.

"Is Momo-chin… _drunk_?" He looked as though he couldn't believe it.

"Hiya, Eiji-senpai!" Momo waved somewhat crookedly at him, confirming Eiji's suspicions, even apart from the distinct smell of alcohol that was lingering about him.

"He _is_ drunk! Momo! What were you _thinking_?" Eiji hissed, looking completely taken aback. He would have yelled at his roommate for being so stupid, but of course, he didn't want to risk waking up Oishi with the noise.

"Something happened, Kikumaru," Inui attempted to explain. "I don't know exactly what, but… Fuji had something to do with it."

Eiji fell silent then, looking at Momo's extremely unfocused expression. He didn't quite know what to think… But somehow, if Fuji was involved it didn't surprise him all that much.

"Kikumaru-senpai, where's the bedroom?" Ryoma asked suddenly, glancing at the side passage to his right and ignoring a random giggling fit on the part of Momo.

"It's down that hallway, Ochibi," Eiji answered simply, looking slightly perplexed. "Why?"

"I'll take him in there," Ryoma explained briefly. "He should probably lie down. He can't walk straight anyway."

"I can too!" Momo protested indignantly, suppressing his own laughter and pulling away from Inui's grasp. He took one step forward and instantly veered to the left, until Ryoma gently took him by the arm and directed him down the tiny passageway to the other room.

"Where are we going?" Momo asked in a rambling voice, looking confused.

"_You're_ going to bed," was Ryoma's frank response. For a moment, Momo thought about this, processing the answer. And then he grinned stupidly and chuckled, in a strangely high-pitched tone.

"You're not coming with me?"

"Momo-senpai, you're drunk," said Ryoma simply, as he turned on the light in the bedroom, only to reveal an even more cluttered space than the front room.

Carefully stepping in between the sea of disorder on the floor, Ryoma led Momo over to one of the unmade beds. Despite his best efforts, though, he wasn't able to stop Momo from tripping over the debris, and next thing he knew, Momo collided into him and caused them both fall down onto the mattress with a _thud_.

"Um… Momo-senpai…" To say the least, Ryoma felt slightly awkward, finding himself pinned underneath his much bigger friend.

There was a pause, as Momo tried to lift himself up, and then stopped trying, lying back down again on top of the tennis star without a word.

"Momo-sen---" Ryoma was going to try again to get his former teammate's attention, when he heard him start mumbling something, talking into Ryoma's shoulder.

"You know, I'm not stupid."

"Uh… what's that?" Ryoma asked, deciding to play along with whatever Momo was babbling about. He could faintly feel Momo's warm breath against his shirt, and that muted stench was starting to make him wonder just how much alcohol Momo had been drinking.

"I'm not stupid. I knew this was going to happen."

Momo's voice sounded strangely clear now, despite being muffled by Ryoma's clothing.

"What are you talking about, Momo-senpai?" Ryoma couldn't help asking, confused. It felt very strange, to be having a conversation with Momo while they were just lying there like that, in such an awkward position… But Ryoma suddenly got the distinct feeling that Momo was trying, even in his drunken state, to tell him something important.

"I knew… I knew that… I mean, Fuji-senpai just… Oh well. He doesn't understand."

Momo's voice slipped back into an incoherent mumble, and he rolled over off of Ryoma, much to the tennis star's relief. But when Ryoma tried to get up off the bed, Momo grapped him by the arm and pulled him down again, hard.

"Momo-senpai---?" Now it was Ryoma who was on top of Momo, staring right into those purple eyes and feeling extremely uncomfortable. But Momo's expression was somewhat distant, as though he didn't even know what he was doing.

"You don't understand, either," he said faintly, hardly even looking at Ryoma.

"What don't I understand, Momo-senpai?" Ryoma asked, trying to be as compliant as possible with someone who was very obviously intoxicated.

"I mean… you don't… I mean, you left. You just left. Stupid."

The insult was said with a strange kind of affection, and for a split second, Momo's strong arms went around the tennis star's back, pulling Ryoma so close to him that Ryoma could actually feel the power player's heart beating against his chest…

And then, just as quickly, those arms fell back down onto the mattress, and Momo closed his eyes as though the bright light was bothering him.

Ryoma took the opportunity to get off the bed, while Momo wasn't paying attention, but he couldn't help looking at his former teammate with concern.

"Are you okay, Momo-senpai?" he asked finally, very softly.

But Momo didn't say anything. Ryoma wondered if maybe he was asleep, but instead of inquiring further to find out, he just walked over to the door and turned off the light.

He glanced back at his friend, who just lay there, looking strangely peaceful. And something in him couldn't resist a smile, as he quietly closed the door behind him.

Momo slowly opened his eyes again, but they were met with nothing but darkness. And so he whispered it to the empty room instead.

"Stupid Echizen. Don't you know I love you?"

- - - - - - -

Ryoma walked back into the front room, only to find Inui and Eiji talking together very quietly about something. Kaidoh was just standing beside them without a word, looking strangely angry.

"Oh, Echizen, you're back," Inui observed as soon as he noticed the tennis star coming into the room.

"Is Momo-chin okay?" Eiji asked, looking worried. Ryoma just nodded.

"He should be fine… But I imagine that will be one impressive hangover," Inui noted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Why was he drunk anyway?" Eiji crossed his arms, eyebrows knit together.

Inui looked as though he was about to respond, but it was Kaidoh's rough voice that cut into the stillness, sounding even lower than a growl.

"Fuji-senpai."

There was an uneasy silence in the poorly-lit apartment. Eiji looked as though he was going to ask another question, but to his surprise, Kaidoh continued talking.

"It's the idiot's own fault. He was messing around where he wasn't wanted. He's tried to do it before."

A strange feeling came over Ryoma, looking into Kaidoh's face as he hissed those words. For some reason he couldn't explain, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable… maybe even frightened…

… But of what?

"What do you mean, he's tried to do it before?" Ryoma managed after a moment, swallowing hard and trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest.

"Ffsssshhhhh," came the usual snake noise, and a firey glint flashed in those piercing eyes.

"He's just an idiot," Kaidoh said at last, and the bitterness in his voice was almost more than Ryoma could stand. Something in him wanted to protest, wanted to demand an answer, not only to his question but to all the things about this situation that he still didn't understand…

In that moment, Ryoma's back pocket began to ring.

"Uh… what---?"

Ryoma interrupted Eiji's vocal confusion with a quiet apology as he took out his cell phone. "Sorry about that. I'll take it outside."

He closed the apartment door behind him and flipped open his cell, holding it to one ear with a calm, "Hello?"

"_Hello. Is this Echizen?"_

"Fuji-senpai?" In a strange way, Ryoma felt himself trying to catch his breath, surprised at how beautiful the tensai sounded, even over the phone.

"_Yes, it's me."_

"Wait… How did you get my number?" Ryoma couldn't help letting the confusion come through in his voice as he tried to figure out the answer himself.

There was a slight laugh on the other end, and then came the simple answer.

"_Momo gave it to me. I'm glad he gave me the right number. But I would have called you in your hotel room anyway, even if he hadn't."_

"Fuji-senpai, about Momo-senpai…" Ryoma couldn't help wanted to ask about what had happened earlier, but he was interrupted.

"_There's no time for that right now. I have something to ask you, Echizen."_

There was a pause, as Ryoma wondered why his heart was beating so fast. It was just a question, after all…

"What is it, Fuji-senpai?" he managed at last.

"…"

"… _Are you free this evening?"_

In the silence that followed, Ryoma thought he heard someone else, far away, calling his name.

He looked around, surprised, wondering who in the world would be calling for him, and why. But of course, he didn't the noise again. And then the voice on the other line spoke up again, sounding mildly perplexed.

"_Echizen?"_

Ryoma took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Why was he so nervous, anyway? It was just a simple question.

"Yes, I'm free," he said as evenly as he could. He didn't know why, but he was starting to be afraid of that question. Every time someone asked it, something disturbing was always just around the corner…

"_Glad to hear it. Are you familiar with our hotel's floor plan, Echizen?"_

Now that was the strangest question yet, and it didn't help ease Ryoma's discomfort.

"I… I guess I am. Why?"

"_I'll meet you at the rooftop garden in an hour. And come alone. I'll see you there, Echizen."_

"Fuji-senpai---" But before Ryoma could say another word, the line went dead, and he was left staring at his cell phone, heart pounding.

Why did this scare him? It was Fuji-senpai. He knew that he'd been warned about the tensai over and over again, but it was still just Fuji-senpai…

Fuji-senpai could be strange sometimes, of course, but Ryoma had always trusted the tensai, always believed that Fuji would never take something too far, would never intentionally try to break something so that it could never be repaired…

… But this posed a question.

Should Ryoma still believe that?

…

"_Echizen… Whatever you do, stay away from Fuji, okay?"_

…

As Ryoma slid his cell phone back into his pocket, he thought he heard that voice again, calling to him.

Who was that?

Maybe it was just his imagination, but suddenly he thought that it sounded like Fuji himself, years ago, saying Ryoma's name with that sweet, cheerful voice he used to have.

And suddenly, Ryoma knew what he had to do.

Without even bothering to re-enter the apartment to tell his friends where he was going, he turned and walked down the hallway.

It was, after all, only an hour until midnight.

- - - - - - - -

By the time Ryoma entered the lobby of the hotel, it was already 11:55. The normally bustling place was quiet, with only a few businessmen still coming in from the late flights to check in for the evening.

Ryoma walked over to the elevators and pressed the button, waiting with a strange kind of anticipation. He hardly even understood why he was so tense. After all, what could Fuji have to say that could really be so shocking?

… Part of Ryoma, though, kept nagging him in the back of his mind, saying that he probably didn't know the half of it.

The elevator doors opened, and he walked inside, staring for a moment at the long list of floors. Until the very last second, he was unsure if he would actually press the button for the topmost floor, or if he would let his fear get the best of him and press for his own floor instead…

But press that top button he did, and with a slight jerk, the elevator was on its way.

There was a moment of silence, while he tried to breathe more normally and slow his steadily increasing heartbeat.

"Ryoma, what is wrong with you?" he found himself saying to the four tiny walls. It was then that he knew he was losing it. He never talked to himself. Ever. But somehow, now, he couldn't help it.

He sighed and mumbled, "Idiot. It's just Fuji-senpai, anyway."

He took a deep breath and watched the digital floor counter climb right along with the elevator.

"7… 8… 9… 10…"

Ryoma suddenly found himself feeling almost dizzy, watching those numbers climb, feeling himself going higher and higher, right up to the top…

"17… 18… 19… 20…"

He closed his eyes, just as the elevator lurched to a halt. With a slight gasp, he scrambled to steady himself, trying to keep from falling.

The doors flew open, and Ryoma found himself facing a small staircase, with the fresh smell of the night flowing downward into the hotel through the opening in the ceiling. He climbed the small handful of steps onto the roof, only to be met with a myriad of lights right above his head. The skyscrapers were glittering all around him, shining in every bright color imaginable, and just beyond them, the dim stars twinkled stubbornly in the darkness.

The wind suddenly picked up, whipping all around him and forcing him to grab onto his own baseball cap to make sure it didn't fly off his head.

After he had secured his hat, he found himself looking around, and it was like nothing he had ever seen before. What should have been a plain cement roof was surfaced with a gleaming white stone, and there were trees and shrubs planted in a geometrical pattern, with all kinds of branches rustling in the wind.

He didn't see anyone nearby, so he began somewhat hesitantly to walk down the path. He sniffed the air, suddenly noticing that it smelled like it was going to rain. He glanced up at the sky, only to see clouds just beginning to gather above his head, blocking the silver stars from view.

When he looked back down again, he stopped still in surprise. There before him was a long, rectangular fountain, stretching straight toward the edge of the building. The moon, almost fully obscured by the clouds, was right above his line of vision. And just beneath the moon stood a tall statue, winged and with arms reaching outward, palms tipped up toward the sky.

But it wasn't the fountain that had stolen the breath from Ryoma's lungs.

Walking on top of the fountain's edge was the tensai himself, haunting blue eyes wide open, looking almost as though he was in a trance. He took every step slowly, carelessly, absently smiling to himself about some unspoken thought…

It was the first time that Ryoma found himself unable to do anything but stare at such a beautiful sight. The strange light created by the dim moon and the bright city lights was reflecting off of the tensai's hair and clothes, lending him his own unearthly glow. The wind was blowing all about him, and something in Ryoma was convinced that any second the tensai was going to alight on the wind and fly away into the sky.

The strange enchantment of the moment, though, was gone before Ryoma even realized it. The next thing he knew, Fuji had noticed his presence and effortlessly stepped off of the fountain's ledge, walking straight toward him.

"So you did come," Fuji said at last, and Ryoma forgot to try to read the expression behind that beautiful voice, as he finally felt his heart start beating again. He hadn't even noticed that it had stopped.

He merely nodded in reply, and Fuji smiled a little, something strange glinting in those mesmerizing blue eyes.

He took a few more steps toward Ryoma, and it was then that the tennis star finally realized it. He hadn't noticed before, because he hadn't been close enough to the tensai to notice it yet. But it was true, nevertheless…

This imposing presence, this picturesque figure whose beauty was absolutely bewitching…

This enigmatic tensai had to crane his neck slightly upward to look Ryoma in the eyes.

Fuji himself seemed to notice this also for the first time, as he laughed lightly and murmured, "I thought so. Now even you're taller than I am…"

Ryoma watched, unable to move as those delicate hands lifted up to Ryoma's shirt collar and straightened it for a moment, and the tensai leaned forward, blue eyes open.

It happened before he knew it, but it happened, no matter how much it felt like a dream…

Fuji Shusuke, former tensai of Seigaku, kissed Ryoma lightly on the cheek, right next to the corner of his mouth.

… What was it about those soft lips that was so absolutely earth-shattering?

"I'm sorry," Fuji said apologetically, an actual hint of remorse in his voice as his fingers released Ryoma's collar. He turned away and walked slowly back toward the fountain.

"It was just for a memory, you know," the tensai added in a clearer tone after a moment, leaning over to dip his hand in the water.

"What do you mean?" Ryoma found himself following in those footsteps, coming up to the fountain and watching as Fuji splashed his hand into the small waves, sending a thousand tiny diamonds of water into the air.

"What I mean to say, I suppose, is that it wasn't for you," Fuji explained almost dreamily. "Perhaps you could say it was meant for the twelve-year-old boy instead."

There was an inevitable silence as Ryoma thought about this.

"I'm not the same person?" he inquired at last, looking confused.

"No," came the shockingly quick answer, cutting into the tranquil stillness.

The tensai's mood had changed completely now, and he turned to look Ryoma in the face, his eyes blazing with blue fire.

"No, you're not," he repeated, in a flat voice. "_You're_ just a disappointment."

Ryoma felt as though he'd just had a bucket of cold water poured right onto his head, and he blinked in surprise.

"A disappointment, Fuji-senpai?" he couldn't help repeating. Oddly enough, something about the insult had actually hurt, stung like a slap in the face, and he didn't like it at all.

"That's right," came the cool reply, as Fuji flung another splash of water across the shallow pool. "And if they weren't a useless bunch of _liars_, everyone else would have told you the same thing."

"Fuji-senpai!" Ryoma couldn't hide the shock in his voice. He just couldn't. He didn't care that he was showing too much to someone who was starting to genuinely scare him. He couldn't. Why would Fuji say something like that about his own friends?

He didn't understand…

"You don't know why I'm saying this, do you?" Fuji said. It wasn't a question, though… It was said with the confidence of an established fact.

"No, I don't," he managed, in spite of his tightening throat.

"I wonder…" That beautiful voice was almost singing, light and airy, but the words it said were as dark as midnight itself. "I wonder how many things would have been completely destroyed before you realized it for yourself."

"Realized what, Fuji-senpai?" Ryoma asked in a low tone, eyes fixed on the back of the tensai's head.

A full minute passed with no response from Fuji, as the wind whipped all around them, howling as it slipped around the skyscrapers of Tokyo.

As though he hadn't heard the question, Fuji began walking alongside the fountain, approaching the edge of the roof. He was staring up at the moon, which had freed itself from the gathering clouds for a moment, shining a sickly white.

Ryoma felt himself following the tensai, without even deciding for himself to do so.

The moon slipped back behind the clouds, and Fuji stopped in his tracks, a few feet away from the raised ledge that separated the roof from the empty air.

"Tell me, Echizen," the tensai murmured at last. "Did you ever look back?"

"Look back?" Ryoma repeated slowly, trying to comprehend the question.

"When you left for America, did you ever look back?" Fuji repeated, more loudly this time.

"Why would I look back?" Ryoma responded, frowning. But the frown faded into nothing when the tensai turned his head, those eyes glaring into Ryoma like daggers.

Suddenly, Ryoma was unable to speak. He couldn't say a single thing. And that ugly feeling, that sudden ache in his chest, did not leave him. Instead, it slowly worsened as Fuji began to speak, grew sharper with every passing word…

"Ryoma, do you know what is holding this building up?"

The tensai took two steps forward, letting his hands fall onto the unnervingly thin ledge as he looked down into Tokyo.

Ryoma couldn't answer, but something in him already knew what the tensai meant by that.

How did he know what Fuji was going to say…?

And why did it hurt so much…?

"That's right," Fuji responded, even though Ryoma hadn't said a word. "Even the tallest skyscrapers have support pillars holding them up from beneath."

The tensai turned around suddenly, staring Ryoma right in the face. Fuji didn't look away again, either. He just stared, and for the first time in his life, Ryoma felt his knees go weak.

He had been on his knees back then, he suddenly remembered.

On his knees, before that man, on that day so long ago…

…

_Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!_

…

Fuji was watching those gold eyes of Ryoma's intently, searching in them for something unspoken. And Ryoma felt strangely afraid, as if that stare of Fuji's was actually capable of seeing inside him, into every part of his being…

For the first time, Echizen Ryoma knew what it was to feel condemned.

"Tell me, Echizen…"

That voice was so cruel… so beautiful and so cruel…

Ryoma didn't want to believe it could say something like this. But all the same, he knew that it was going to…

"Do you know what a support pillar does, Echizen? Do you know what it's for?" Fuji asked, eyes gleaming.

…

"_Echizen, come back to us, okay?"_

…

"_I have no doubt of it. You will be on top of the world."_

…

"_You will always be our pillar, Echizen."_

…

"_Promise me, Echizen! Promise me!"_

…

Fuji's eyes were burning, burning with the coldest kind of blue fire, and suddenly Ryoma wished he could just run away… Run away from this merciless being with the beauty of an angel and words fit for hell…

But those eyes wouldn't let him move. He couldn't leave. And when that voice began to speak again, it pierced his chest.

"Do you know what happens when a pillar _disappears_?"

Suddenly, without thinking, Ryoma felt himself walk forward, walk to that ledge and look out over the abyss before him. The wind picked up again, shrieking somewhere above his head as he came up alongside the tensai…

Why? Why was he walking forward when everything in him wanted to run away? He didn't want to look over that terrible ledge…

"It's an awfully long way to fall, isn't it?" Fuji said quietly, tensely. Suddenly his voice rose to almost a scream. "Especially for those of us standing the closest to the sky!"

The fire in those eyes exploded into an inferno, and the tensai lunged forward, grabbing Ryoma by the arms and shoving him toward the edge. In a blurry instant, Ryoma found himself being held against the cement ledge, arms locked behind him, back bent so that his head was turned downward toward the earth beneath him.

And his eyes saw the shimmering city lights, dancing so far beneath his head, and he began to feel so dizzy that he felt sick. His heart was throbbing, painfully, frantically… He was absolutely terrified. He had never been so afraid in all his life, then by this sight of the ground so far below him…

Suddenly he was absolutely convinced that Fuji wanted him to die.

He wanted to cry out, to beg for his life, to plead to the tensai to please not push him over the edge, but he forgot to beg when the tensai all but shrieked at him from behind, still holding Ryoma's arms firmly in place.

"Don't look away, Echizen! I won't let you. God knows you weren't the one who had to fall so far!"

Ryoma still wished he could cry out, but in the roar of the traffic below his head, he began to be afraid of something entirely different.

He wasn't afraid for himself.

He was afraid for the ones who had already fallen.

He felt the hat slip off of his head, and he watched in something like horror as the white cap fell a hundred, no, a thousand, no, a hundred thousand feet downward, until he couldn't even see it falling anymore…

_Oh, God…_

_It couldn't really have been like this, could it…?_

"That's right, look for yourself," that cruel voice hissed. "And you know what they say about falling so far? That you black out before it's over? It's a lie!"

Looking down at those lights, so far away, watching that hat fall to its fate while Fuji spoke those words of poison…

Something in Ryoma broke then.

The lights began to blur in front of his eyes as Fuji continued in his frenzied, painful monologue…

"It's a lie, Echizen! You don't black out at all! You see everything, you see the sky slip away from you, you feel your body falling toward the ground, and you know…"

The blurred cityscape became painful to look at, and Ryoma's eyes started to burn, and something started to drip off of his face.

It couldn't be tears, though… because Ryoma never cried…

He didn't cry, no matter how painful the words of a fallen angel could become…

"You know that every second is bringing you closer to that moment, that moment when you're going to hit the pavement…"

Ryoma didn't recognize that sound. He had never heard it before, but it was coming in choked gasps.

It was the sound of himself sobbing.

"… And then you finally hit the bottom, and you shatter into a thousand pieces, Echizen! _That's_ what happens when you fall so far! You never black out, not even once! You watch yourself DIE, Echizen!"

"Fu… Fuji-senp…" He tried to gasp out his former teammate's name, but he couldn't. He couldn't catch his breath, and the tears were still slipping out of his eyes.

… Why wouldn't they stop?

"I won't stop, Echizen. That's what you did to us. That's what you did when you left. You want to know who's to blame for everything falling apart, Echizen?" Fuji's voice was absolutely maniacal now, frantic with the force of his accusation, punctuated with the sound of Ryoma crying.

"YOU ARE!"

Fuji released his grip on the teenager, shoving him against the ledge. He watched as Echizen Ryoma, the tennis star who had conquered the world, sank to his knees and cried.

Fuji kneeled, an icy gleam in his eyes, and his voice lowered to a whisper as he put his lips right next to Ryoma's ear.

"That's right. You're the reason why we're not the people you left behind. Everything that ever went wrong… That's your fault, the fault of our renegade pillar who vanished without a trace and left us to fall back to earth."

Ryoma choked back his own sobs, listening to every word with a strange kind of resignation, even though he couldn't stop crying. It was as though all the tears he'd never bothered to cry had just decided to be released, all in one moment.

"You're the reason why the Golden Pair was shattered… Why Momoshiro and Kaidoh can't even stand to look at each other… Why three of us ran away from this disaster zone and swore we'd never come back… That's right, Echizen…"

Ryoma listened, horrified.

"You're the one who made our strongest pillar crumble into dust and blow away into the wind."

In the silence that followed, as Ryoma tried to stop crying, tried to catch his breath, Fuji gazed for another minute at the devastated boy. And then he stood up, expression calmer, those sky blue eyes almost drained of emotion.

"And you thought you were going to save us, didn't you? You really are a fool."

The tensai frowned, looking somewhat disgusted.

"I'm almost surprised you had the audacity to ever come back. It would have been better if you had never even bothered."

…

"_Echizen… Come back. Promise me!"_

…

It was a full hour later when Ryoma finally realized that Fuji had long since walked away. The tensai had just left him there, on his knees, leaning against the cement ledge as though he'd never be able to stand again.

He had finally stopped crying. He had never felt this way before. He had never known what it was like to cry until you couldn't anymore. It was almost a relief, but there was a distinctly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a stubborn, aching knot that refused to untie itself…

He couldn't chase that feeling away. And it terrified him.

Ryoma had always been able to ignore his own disappointment, his own inner conflicts. He just pretended they didn't bother him. And it worked. He never had any feelings strong enough to wrest tears from his eyes. Why should he? No, he never cried…

… He never cried for himself.

But this hadn't been for himself.

It had been the strangest feeling, but Ryoma had felt something like it only hours earlier. In that moment, when he'd distinctly felt Oishi's pain in loving Eiji, he had understood what it was to be in the former vice captain's situation. And the pain he had just felt, in this moment…

He was sure this was the pain of all of them. Of all of his former teammates…

… No, of his friends, of his friends that had meant so much to him…

… This was their pain. The pain of five long years while everything fell apart.

The pain he hadn't seen.

The pain he had caused.

He was shivering now. He couldn't stop, even though he desperately wanted to. He didn't want to believe that what Fuji said was true, either. But the truth was, he should have known it all along. It made sense. Far too much sense to ignore. After all, he had left, five years ago… and five years ago, everything had slowly begun to fall apart.

_Maybe I did know it all along._

… _I just didn't want to believe it._

_I…_

_I wanted to believe they were okay after all._

_I wanted…_

He was shaking so violently that he desperately wrapped his arms around himself, trying to get warm. He wondered why he was so cold, and then he noticed that he was wet all over.

It was raining.

Slowly, painfully, Ryoma rose to his feet and looked upward, at the dark sky. His eyes started to sting, blinking in surprise as the raindrops fell onto his face.

_I only wanted to see them again._

He stared blankly as the rain fell on and on. He slowly became aware of the painful feeling that was still aching in his chest.

And he wondered for a moment if that was the pain of a broken heart.

He didn't indulge in the thought for long. He didn't particularly care about the pain in his own body, when his mind was drowning in painful thoughts, thoughts he couldn't possibly ignore…

He could still hear Fuji's beautiful voice, echoing inside his head, cutting deeper into his own fears.

…

"_And you thought you were going to save us…"_

"_It would have been better if you had never come back."_

…

Ryoma stood for another moment, looking at the rain, gazing in front of him at the blurry cityscape as the sky cried a million tears.

And then he turned around and began slowly walking toward the stairs, hardly caring where his feet were taking him.

- - - - - - -

Tezuka watched from the hotel room window as the rain fell outside. He had just taken a shower, putting on a bathrobe and walking into the bedroom, only to find a stormy scene glaring at him from outside the window. Something about it had caught his attention and held it there, as he watched the drops fall down the glass. It was strange, he thought, but it looked unusually cold and dreary outside for a mere summer rain. Maybe it was the ugly dull gray of the sky, lit by all those city lights…

Suddenly, a chill went down his spine.

He thought he heard someone crying.

He knew that voice, didn't he? Who was that?

…

Whoever it was, they were sobbing. And those choked sobs cut him to the heart.

He looked around, only to hear the door suddenly creak open. He watched as Fuji entered the room, somewhat damp, hair dripping as it clung to the tensai's skin.

"Fuji, why are you all wet?" Tezuka couldn't help asking, even though he could already guess the answer without much trouble.

"Oh, I was just on the rooftop. They have a beautiful garden up there, you know," Fuji said somewhat cheerfully. Yet, strangely enough, he wasn't wearing his usual mask of an expression. Instead, his eyes were open, shining with some unreadable emotion. And this made Tezuka feel somewhat uneasy.

"Why were you on the roof?" he wondered aloud, frowning slightly.

"I just wanted to take a look around. Unfortunately, it started raining," explained the tensai smoothly, as he walked toward the former captain.

Tezuka sighed and turned back to the window, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling nagging at him, only to feel two thin arms slip around his waist from behind.

"Fuji…"

Tezuka wished that he could make Fuji tell him where he had been. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to. And so instead, he said nothing.

Fuji smiled to himself as he leaned against the former captain's back, liking the feeling of the terrycloth robe against his cheek. And he murmured, almost to himself, as softly as a feather…

"It's alright, Tezuka. There's nothing to worry about. Everything will be alright now."

**- end of chapter thirteen –**

_

* * *

__A/N: I know, I know! Fuji is evil! XD Well, it's okay if he seems that way to you all for the moment. That's kind of the intention. Because from here on out… The only secrets left are pretty much about Tezuka and Fuji. And I can promise you those secrets are anything but normal. So, if this seems to be taking a turn for the worse, I can assure you that there is more angst where this comes from. This is another turning point in the plot, and you'll see soon enough where it leads._

_In other news, I'm so sorry this chapter is so late! T.T This past week I had a paper and two huge exams that I really needed to do well on, so I actually had to focus on college. (Bleah.) It was murder and I hated it, but fortunately it's over. And I won't be that busy again until mid-November, by which point I'm sure the story will already be complete. So no worries! I promise I'll update at least twice this week to make up for it, maybe more… Would that make up for the wait, perhaps? I hope so!_

_Well, despite the depressing subject matter, I hope this chapter was worth the wait! I promise that the end of this fic isn't nearly this depressing. Really! Anyway… **Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirteen!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** Ryoma disappears, and the Regulars are left to find out for themselves what passed between Fuji and Ryoma the night before. Now that Ryoma has been forced to face a certain truth about the past, what will he do in response? Will he vanish again and let history repeat itself? Or will he decide to face the problem once and for all?_


	14. Chapter 14: Held

**Chapter Fourteen: Held**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Woe is me.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter fourteen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/Atobe says that flamers "will incur Ore-sama's wrath." **Lol.

Okay, I finished chapter fourteen! I'm very glad it didn't take me as long to complete as chapter thirteen, because you all are more than worthy of timely updates. And again, thank you all so much for the reviews! The reviews for thirteen were especially touching to me, given that the chapter was particularly difficult for me to write. I'm glad to know you all enjoyed it! And for those of you who found it heartbreaking, I assure you that I know the feeling, even if I'm the author. T.T Well, on with the fic! **Let me know what you all think of chapter fourteen!**

* * *

_Did you forget us, on that day you flew away?_

_I always wondered if you had forgotten._

_You never looked back, but I believed you would return._

_Was I a fool for believing in you?_

_If so, then so be it._

…

Momo scrambled into the front room of the apartment, looking both frantic and dazed at the same time. He was met with the stares of Eiji, Kaidoh, and Inui, who were still talking together as they had been the night before, long after the sun had come up. They were sitting at the small dining table in the front room and had been speaking quietly until Momo barged in.

"Oh, hey, Momo-chin. You're awake," Eiji observed, blinking in surprise at the sudden commotion.

"Where's Echizen?" was the first thing out of Momo's mouth, as he leaned up against the doorpost with something like exhaustion.

"Echizen? He left last night, late, I believe," Inui calmly answered. "He was answering a phone call and never came back inside."

There was a pause as Momo let this information sink in.

"I have to go find him," he said at last, grimacing. He had the worst headache in the world, but that didn't matter, not now…

"Whoa there, Momo-chin!" Eiji walked up to the power player and grabbed his arm. "Why do you have to go find Ochibi right now? You don't look too good…"

"It's just… I have to. Fuji-senpai was…" Momo attempted to articulate an answer, in spite of the throbbing pain. But he was interrupted by his rival.

"What about Fuji-senpai?" Kaidoh growled, coming right up to Momo and glaring in his face.

"Fuji-senpai… he was going to talk to Echizen last night… or that's what he said, but… Ugghhh…" Momo really wanted to explain the whole thing clearly to his former teammates, but the ache in his head was starting to get the best of him and give way to outright nausea.

"He was going to talk to Ochibi?" Eiji repeated, glancing at Inui with a meaningful look.

"Inui-senpai, Kaidoh…"

Momo took a deep breath and steadied himself for a moment, knowing that this was going to be his only chance to say something before he had to make a run for the restroom.

"I need you to do something for me."

- - - - - - - - -

_Fuji opened his eyes and stared straight at Tezuka. That look in those sky blue irises was unmistakable. It was the look of someone who was absolutely desperate, who knew that he had been backed into a corner, that this was his only chance to play his final trump card and put his last bet on the line._

_It was a look that would change Tezuka's life forever._

_The tensai began slowly at first, speaking very softly almost under his breath. But that piercing look in those blue eyes rooted Tezuka's feet to the floor, and he couldn't escape the power of those words…_

"_What do you want, Tezuka? Is this all you want from life? Is this really it?"_

…

Tezuka's eyelids slowly fluttered open, and he was met with the light of morning as it streamed in through the hotel window. He blinked in surprise at how bright it was. Had he forgotten to draw the curtains overnight? Or perhaps…

He glanced over beside him, but no, the tensai was still sleeping, looking particularly angelic in the gentle morning light. The folds of the snow white bed sheet cascaded over his delicate figure like a cloud, and the sun was glinting off of his hair just like a shining halo.

As though he couldn't help himself, Tezuka held his breath and leaned in toward Fuji's sleeping form, lightly caressing those shining locks of hair, brushing them away from Fuji's perfectly beautiful face.

And for the thousandth time, Tezuka wished that this outward perfection was the only reality.

The truth was, though, that when he unconsciously likened Fuji to an angel, it was only a faint reference to a fleeting dream that had long since died in his heart. There was no truth to it. It wasn't so much a reflection on the tensai as it was a reflection on Tezuka's jaded perspective, even though both had become rather twisted under the omnipotent strength of time. Either way, Fuji was not, could not be an angel.

And that, too, was probably his own fault.

Repressing a sigh, he got up from the bed, taking care to do it slowly so as not to wake Fuji. He walked over to the window, gazing out at the bustling city far beneath him. And he wondered why, lately, he could dream of nothing but the past.

He wondered, but he didn't really need to wonder. After all, the answer was obvious.

It was because of Ryoma, of course.

It had been so long since he had even seen the boy… Well, in person, at least, because of course he'd seen the hundreds of billboard ads for sponsors who had readily taken advantage of their patron athlete's youthful good looks. And he'd watched him on television, too, especially all four times that Ryoma had claimed the men's world championship at Wimbledon. And he'd heard the boy's name repeated in countless conversations about his chosen sport, especially during his travels in Europe.

But somehow, something in him had still seen Ryoma as the twelve-year-old boy, the boy that had intrigued him from the moment he started attending Seigaku over five years ago. It was only now, now that he had seen him again after five long years, that he no longer saw Ryoma as that boy from his memory.

It was strange, really, how during the passage of time their roles had reversed.

Once, Tezuka had been the source of Ryoma's inspiration. Now, to Tezuka, it was Ryoma who burned in his mind like an ideal of what his own life could have… no, _should have_ been like.

But that, of course, was an ideal that was now impossible for him to reach.

Perhaps that was why he was afraid. He was afraid of what he knew he had to do. He had to tell Ryoma everything. And yet… he wasn't so sure that he had the courage to tell him. What would the boy who had always looked up to him say about something so horrifying? … Would he even say anything at all?

Tezuka wasn't sure if Ryoma would say anything, but he was sure that Ryoma would never be able to look up to him again.

It was a source of regret for the former captain, but it was a regret that had long since become past repair.

_This was what I chose. I can't change it anymore. I'm no longer fit for dreams or ambitions…_

For a moment, Tezuka glanced back at the tensai, who was still sleeping peacefully.

_The only thing I can do is tell him the truth._

- - - - - - - -

_Did you forget? Did you?_

_ANSWER ME!_

…

Ryoma was standing and staring at the familiar sight in front of him, unsure if he was dreaming or if perhaps he really was awake after all. Either way, he couldn't remember. He hardly remembered where he was, or rather where he was supposed to be… Japan, maybe, he thought… And he was starting to wonder if it was more likely that he was just asleep, maybe having a bad dream.

It certainly would explain his confused state of mind. And why he had walked all over Tokyo during the night, not caring who saw him wandering around like some crazed nutcase, soaked to the skin with last night's rain. And why even though the morning sun was starting to dry off his clothes, it couldn't wake him out of his dazed trance.

It didn't explain why his body was aching all over, though. As far as Ryoma could remember, dreams usually didn't hurt. At least, not like this…

He continued staring at the place, wondering why he had come here of all places. It was that street tennis place, with the familiar courts and benches and vending machines. At the moment, he only faintly recalled all the times that he and his friends had gathered at these courts, usually just goofing off and acting completely stupid. If his mind wasn't so distracted, he might have smiled at all the strange memories that this place held. But at the moment, he could hardly even remember those times…

… So why had his feet carried him here, anyway?

Slowly, and with some pain, he trudged over to the stone risers and sat down on one of the benches, putting his head in his heads.

Why was he here?

Why was he here in the first place? Why was he in Japan? What had he come here for?

He didn't even know anymore.

"Fuji-senpai was right," he mumbled brokenly, voice muffled. "I should never have come back."

Completely exhausted, he drew one leg up onto the bench and rested his head on his knee, trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest.

_It's because I'm to blame, after all._

_It's all my fault._

… _I should just leave. I can't help them, not if I'm the one who hurt them._

"Echizen. There you are," said a familiar voice behind him.

Was this just another part of the dream?

Ryoma lifted his head to look back, to see if he'd just been hearing things. But no, there was Inui, and Kaidoh was right behind him. They were just standing there, looking at him, their expressions completely unreadable to Ryoma's eyes.

What were they doing in this part of town?

"Inui-senpai? Kaidoh-senpai…" Ryoma looked vaguely surprised, but mostly just confused. "What are you doing here?"

"We could ask you the same question," Kaidoh retorted, though not as harshly as Ryoma would have expected. He climbed down the steps and came right up alongside the tennis star, with Inui following him.

"What are you doing out here, Echizen?" the snakelike teenager demanded, frowning and staring straight down into Ryoma's eyes.

There was a pause. Ryoma didn't know what to say.

"I don't know," he managed at last, very quietly.

Inui glanced at Kaidoh for a moment and then observed, "You look like you were out all night in the rain. Didn't you go back to the hotel to sleep, Echizen?"

"No," came the simple answer as Ryoma buried his head in his arms, still leaning against his knee.

The wind picked up then, rustling among the trees and blowing a few stray leaves across the ground. Inui glanced out over the tennis court, watching as the sunlight danced on the pavement in front of him.

He had a guess as to what had happened, of course. And one look at Kaidoh had told him that his roommate also suspected what had occurred the previous night, in whatever had passed between the tensai and the tennis star. At first, he wasn't sure what to say, and the silence was overwhelming.

At last, with a slight sigh, he slowly began to speak.

"You know, Echizen," he said calmly. "I don't consider myself to be a wise person, not by any stretch of the imagination. When it comes to other people, there is no limit to how inaccurate my data can be. But there is one thing I do know, with perfect accuracy…"

Ryoma lifted his head and watched as his senpai pushed his glasses upward, in that comfortingly familiar gesture.

"I know myself."

Ryoma blinked, still gazing at the data man's profile, as his former teammate stared very intently at the court in front of him.

"I still have a great deal to learn about life, but that knowledge has never once failed me," added Inui, in a very serious tone. "And during the very worst of times, it has been that knowledge that has enabled me to keep moving forward. I may not know all the answers, but I do know what I want from life."

Inui glanced upward at the sky for a moment, watching as a few stray clouds slowly passed overhead.

Then he looked straight at Ryoma, and for a split second, Ryoma saw the earnest expression in his senpai's dark eyes, behind those thick lenses.

"Echizen, what do you want from life?" he asked, a surprisingly gentle tone in his voice.

Ryoma lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment.

"What do I want---?" he repeated, barely louder than a whisper.

The first thing that crowded into his head was the demanding reality of the tennis court in front of him. That was his place in life now, after all. He was on the court every day, training, competing, perfecting his game… Even though he was already on the top of the world, that was his only life, and that had been his choice. He had wanted nothing except to keep aiming higher and higher, ever since he was twelve, ever since he had been awakened by a shining golden figure who had demanded that he become something more than he had ever dreamed…

But the powerful reality of this ambition now seemed strangely dim in his own heart.

Suddenly, he couldn't stop thinking of that horrifying view from the skyscraper, of the accusing eyes in his dream, of all the unsettling secrets he had learned in the past few days… they absolutely haunted him…

Why?

"Echizen," Inui said at last into the silence, watching the younger boy. "You may not know what it is yet. But you will. And when you find out what it is, hold on to it and don't ever let go."

Ryoma let some of the confusion come into his face then. "But, Inui-senpai, how---"

"You'll know, Echizen. I'm sure of it," Inui interrupted calmly. Changing subjects, he remarked, "We should probably be getting you back to the hotel now. You need to get some rest…"

"Inui-senpai," Ryoma said suddenly, with a soft look in his usually sharp eyes. "I… Can we… Well, I don't want to go back to the hotel."

He looked back up at his tall senpai, an almost timid smile on his lips. "Could you take me back to Eiji-senpai's apartment, please?"

Inui smiled a little at that and nodded. "Of course, Echizen. You can stand, right?"

There was a pause, as Ryoma put both his feet on the ground and pressed his hands against the bench, lifting himself up. But he quickly returned to his sitting position and laughed a little, sounding almost blank.

"That's funny… my legs aren't quite working…"

Inui took a few steps toward the tennis star, but he was held back by Kaidoh, who stepped in front of his senpai with a vaguely gruff expression.

Ryoma felt himself being lifted into the air by a pair of very strong arms, and he heard a deep voice muttering, "I've got him, senpai."

In any other situation, Ryoma would have completely balked at the idea of being carried around by one of his former teammates. But it had been such a strange night… He leaned his head against Kaidoh's chest and closed his eyes, not even bothering to wonder how Kaidoh was able to carry him. He may have been fairly short, but he was seventeen after all, and…

Ryoma drifted off, and Inui looked at the tennis star, asleep in Kaidoh's arms.

"You certainly do, Kaidoh," he responded to his roommate's previous assertion, laughing inwardly at the way Kaidoh rolled his eyes despite his flushing cheeks.

"Well, it's Echizen, after all," Kaidoh said in a low tone, glancing himself at Ryoma's pale, water-stained face. "He has to be alright."

- - - - - - - -

Oishi awoke that morning to the sound of two people, talking softly nearby. He knew without a doubt that one of those voices belonged to Eiji. He had never forgotten the sound of Eiji's voice, not for one second…

… But who was that other voice?

He slowly opened his eyes and sat up, only to attract the attention of the voices' owners, who were standing nearby. And, sure enough, there was Eiji, standing next to…

"Uncle Shuichi?" Oishi asked, looking confused. He had expected Eiji to be there, as fuzzy as his memory of the previous day was, but why was his uncle in Eiji's apartment? (1)

"I'll take a look at him, Eiji-kun," Shuichi said to the redhead, who nodded and silently left the room, eyes glued to the floor.

Oishi watched him leave, and then turned his attention back to his uncle, who had already sat down on the chair by the sofa and begun taking Oishi's pulse.

"Uncle, what are you doing here?" he couldn't help wondering aloud, still somewhat bewildered.

At first, his uncle didn't respond, his kind face focused on Oishi's wrist as he mentally observed the gentle thrumming of his nephew's heartbeat. And then he smiled, almost sadly, and looked back up at Oishi.

"Eiji-kun called me. He said you fainted yesterday," he explained slowly, looking Oishi very intently in the eyes. Somehow, Oishi started to feel extremely uncomfortable under that searching gaze, and he blushed and looked away.

For a moment, the doctor just sighed. He then took out a thermometer from his briefcase.

"Open up," he instructed, after he had shaken the thermometer a few times. Oishi obeyed, and his uncle slipped the device under his nephew's tongue and told him to keep his mouth closed.

There was a pause, while Oishi concentrated on keeping the thermometer steady inside his mouth. His uncle just watched him, until finally he began to speak again, fully aware that Oishi wouldn't be able to reply.

"It was quite the surprise, you know," he remarked, catching his nephew's attention again. "As far as your aunt and I knew, you're still supposed to be in England, aren't you?"

He didn't expect an answer. No, this question didn't need an answer. But he did need to see the expression in Oishi's eyes as he asked it, as he tried to understand what had happened…

"Shuichiroh, you don't have to tell me anything," he added quietly. "But I want you to know that I'm worried about you. I've _been_ worried about you…"

He stopped short when the thermometer beeped loudly, and he reached over to take it out of Oishi's mouth again. Hardly glancing at the digital reading, he shook his head and put the thermometer back into his bag.

"You haven't been taking care of yourself, Shuichiroh."

It was a statement, said without a shadow of a doubt. And Oishi's uncle once again looked straight at his nephew, an almost stern expression on that normally gentle face.

Oishi opened his mouth to protest, but then he stopped himself and looked down at his own hands, as they tightly clasped the blanket that had been spread over him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle," he managed at last, very softly.

But his uncle just shook his head again and smiled slightly.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Shuichiroh," he remarked. "But you can't go on like this. You're suffering from exhaustion, mentally and physically, and if you don't start getting some proper rest and lay off the caffeine, your health is only going to get worse."

Oishi blinked in surprise. "How did you know that I was drinking caffeine?"

His uncle laughed a little, reaching out and caressing Oishi's face affectionately.

"You think I can't tell what my own nephew has been doing lately?" He smiled and winked. "I know you far too well for that."

Oishi even smiled a little then, hoping that his uncle wouldn't worry too much about him. Somehow, though, it was the sight of that reluctant smile that seemed to worry his uncle the most, and before Oishi even knew what had happened, his uncle had tears in his eyes.

"Uncle? What's wrong?" he asked, confused.

Suddenly, Oishi found himself in his uncle's embrace, pressed against his shirtfront just like a child in need of comfort. He blinked in surprise for a moment, but then he relaxed, just appreciating the feeling of being held again.

Being held.

He didn't know how long it had been since someone had hugged him. It was something he hadn't really thought about, but suddenly, he was reminded of how much he had missed that simple feeling, of two loving arms holding him close…

He felt tears coming to his own eyes.

"Shuichiroh," his uncle was whispering, his breath brushing against his nephew's ear. "Shuichiroh, I don't know all the details about what you've been going through. I probably never will. But Shuichiroh…"

He held his nephew a little tighter, as Oishi started crying.

"Shuichiroh, the only thing we want… The only thing your parents and I want is for you to be happy. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Oishi murmured, sniffling a little, trying to hold back the tears that were still brimming around his eyes.

"Just be happy," his uncle repeated. He then took a deep breath and released his nephew from his embrace.

After a moment, they both laughed a little, more from a kind of relief than anything else. And Oishi actually smiled, forgetting for a moment to regret the past.

"Thank you, Uncle," he said, with a look that proved that he meant it. His uncle nodded, answering only, "Don't thank me. Just take care of yourself from now on."

He stood up from the chair and walked over to the side hallway, calling, "Eiji-kun! I'm finished in here."

Oishi felt his heart speed up a little when the redhead came back into the room. He looked back down at the blanket spread out in front of him, trying to ignore that all-too-familiar feeling, as if his stomach was twisting into knots at the mere reality of Eiji's presence.

"Well, I'll see you later, Eiji-kun," Oishi's uncle was saying to the younger man. He paused for a moment, as if trying to recall something.

"Don't you have a roommate now?" he inquired finally. "Is he still sleeping?"

Eiji blinked and then laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah, he's still sleeping!" he replied with a sheepish grin, thinking it best not to tell the doctor that Momo had an unusually severe hangover and was probably throwing up at the moment.

"Ah, I see. Well, I'll see you later, Eiji-kun," he repeated amiably, glancing one last time at his nephew. And as though he really couldn't help it, he turned to Eiji one last time and added, very softly, "Please take good care of him."

Eiji felt his throat tighten up at that, but he nodded bravely, and Oishi's uncle gave him an approving nod before he walked out the door, a slight remnant of sorrow still lingering in his eyes.

- - - - - - - -

Taka was hard at work, cleaning the tables at the sushi restaurant in preparation for business hours. He smiled at Kimiko Hoshina, his fiancée, who was sitting on one of the stools by the counter, patiently waiting for him to finish his chores.

"What were you thinking about, Takashi?" she said suddenly, echoing his smile with one of her own.

Taka stopped short, looking a bit perplexed. "What do you mean, Kimiko-chan?"

"You looked like you were thinking about something a moment ago," she explained calmly, still looking him straight in the eyes. Taka loved that about her. She never looked away when she was talking to someone, but always met their stare with her own honest gaze.

He thought for a moment, and then he put down the towel he'd been using and came up alongside her. His face became very serious, and she was surprised at the determination in his expression.

"What is it, Takashi?" she asked quietly, looking up at him.

For a moment, Taka didn't say anything, instead putting his arms around the girl and holding her close. Kimiko smiled to herself and slipped her own delicate arms around Taka's back, resting her head against his chest.

Taka was gently stroking his fiancée on the back, somewhat absently, and then he finally spoke, in a very solemn tone.

"Kimiko-chan, I have something I need you to do for me." He pulled away just a little, so he could look her in the eyes again. "Will you do it, even if it's hard?"

There was a pause, as Kimiko met his gaze and thought for a moment. Then she nodded, just as seriously.

"I will if I can," she answered firmly. "What can I do for you, Takashi?"

Taka took a deep breath, and then he replied to her question, in a voice slightly darkened by the shadow that naturally hung over the subject.

"I need you to talk to Echizen. About Fuji."

**- end of chapter fourteen -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** (1) Yes, Oishi really does have an uncle who's a doctor. He's the guy who examines Tezuka's arm in the early anime episodes. I'm _almost_ positive that his first name is Shuichi. But I can't check up on that for the moment, so if I'm wrong, please forgive me, lol! XD

_A/N: Sorry I didn't post this chapter a bit sooner! I will still update at least once this weekend, probably Saturday morning, and then I'll probably be able to update again by Sunday night. Hopefully that still will make up for last week's delay._

_This chapter was more of a transition chapter, but I tried to make it interesting, in spite of how short it is. And I even got to write a scene with Tezuka in it on Tezuka's birthday! So, happy birthday, Buchou! XD_

_Thank you SO MUCH to all my amazing reviewers. I can't possibly thank you all enough, for all your kind words and encouragement. And to the two C2 managers who added my story to their group, thank you as well. I'm so flattered and so touched that people are actually reading this fic. So, thank you once again, even though I know I've said it a thousand times. And thanks also to **BluAyu**, who drew me a lovely piece of GP fan art that I just love! -hugs her-_

_Look for the next chapter by Saturday! **And let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen!**_

_(Once again, the FAQ for this fic is linked on my profile page, to anyone who wants to read it/ask me a question.)_

_**Coming Up Next:** Events have slowly been approaching the inevitable, and Ryoma is about to discover the first of the ugliest secrets of the past five years. This secret is about the tensai himself, about something that he has kept hidden so well that only three people know the truth about the real Fuji…_


	15. Chapter 15: The Sound of Breaking Glass

**Chapter Fifteen: The Sound of Breaking Glass**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Bummer. XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter fifteen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Fuji will get revenge on flamers. **Lol.

Many, many thanks to my reviewers, once again! I can't tell you all how much you have motivated me to make this story even better, and I hope it starts to show in these next few chapters. I wish I had room to thank you all personally, but I know you'd rather read the fic, so let me just say it again: thank you all so much! And to everyone who has read this story so far: I really hope you enjoy this chapter. **Let me know what you all think of chapter fifteen!**

* * *

_Imagine what it would be like to watch your world come undone._

_Have you known the pain of losing someone you love?_

_If you have, if you can understand a broken heart…_

_Then forgive this angel for falling into hell._

…

"Tezuka."

The former captain was somewhat distracted from the book he had been reading by two delicate hands, as they gently caressed his face. He looked up to see the tensai hovering around the chair in which he was sitting, looking intently at Tezuka as though he wanted something.

"Fuji."

That was all Tezuka said, but his eyes stared right back at Fuji, giving their own kind of reply. It was a reply that didn't seem to satisfy the tensai, however, and so he tried a more direct approach…

Fuji took the book right out of Tezuka's hands and threw it aside. It landed with a _thud_ on the floor, pages crinkled and askew.

"Tezuka…" Fuji knelt right by the former captain's feet, placing his head in the taller man's lap. "Tezuka…"

"What is it, Fuji?" Tezuka finally asked, slowly putting out his hand and running his fingers almost reluctantly through the tensai's light brown hair.

For a moment, Fuji said nothing, enjoying the feeling of that strong hand as it smoothed out his tousled locks. But then he slowly began to speak again, in a sweet voice that sounded lighter than air…

"Tezuka, you don't really want to talk to Echizen, do you?"

There was a pause. A long pause, one that seemed to make Fuji suddenly uncomfortable. Pulling away from that resigned caress, he stood up again and looked Tezuka in the face, trying to read the expression in those amber eyes.

"You don't have to talk to him, you know," Fuji added at last, as though the silence was starting to unnerve him.

Tezuka just looked away, frowning.

"I know that," he said at last, in a very low tone. "I know that… But he has a right to know."

The silence became filled with something like pain, and Fuji's winning smile turned into a grimace.

"A right to know?" he repeated bitterly. "What right does that _brat_ have to know what happened to you?"

"Fuji---" But Tezuka's threatening tone was interrupted.

"He _abandoned_ you, Tezuka," Fuji snapped, ignoring the warning in the former captain's eyes. "I don't know if you recall, but he wasn't there on the night of your little _accident_…"

"Neither were you!" came the stern reply, sounding very loud in the quiet hotel room. The former captain had risen to his feet and was glaring at the tensai with a subdued kind of rage.

Fuji seemed almost shocked to see the anger in Tezuka's eyes. He took one step away from the taller man, as though part of him was afraid of where this was headed.

"Tezuka…" he whispered, sounding hurt. "Are you angry at _me_? Why are you angry---?"

Fuji's voice was softer now, almost timid, and he took another step backward and then fell to his knees. His blue eyes were wide open, staring in front of him with something like terror.

Tezuka watched for a moment, as Fuji sat there on the floor, staring blankly in front of him. The fire went out of the former captain's eyes, and he tried to hold back the anger in his voice.

"Fuji, I didn't mean that I---"

"I'll stay here."

The reply was said in a light, unattached tone, as though the tensai hadn't heard him.

"What did you say?" Tezuka frowned, taking a step toward Fuji and kneeling, trying to look the tensai in the eyes. But those blue irises were wandering, unfocused, not paying attention to Tezuka at all.

"I'll stay here, and you will go away!" Fuji repeated, with a nervous grin.

"Fuji, you're not making sense," Tezuka quietly protested, putting his hands on the tensai's shoulders, as gently as he could.

At that touch, Fuji seemed to shatter, and he threw himself into Tezuka's arms with something halfway between a sob and a shriek. The former captain let the tensai grasp desperately at him, as though he was used to such strange behavior, and drew the smaller man into his arms without a word.

Fuji had started murmuring the strangest things, but Tezuka didn't even try to make sense of them. He knew better than to try.

"_He_ broke it! It isn't my fault. I only took the pieces! I didn't break it… So why are you angry at _me_?"

Tezuka didn't say a word, waiting for the tensai to stop talking in that frantic, frenzied voice, waiting for him to calm down again. He wouldn't say that he was used to these strange mood swings, but he had seen them before, and he knew enough to not interrupt the tensai when he was like this.

Instead, he just held Fuji, waiting. There was a dull look in his eyes as he listened to the tensai's rambling words.

After a few minutes, Fuji seemed to relax, and he looked around for a moment as though he had just re-entered the room. His blue eyes met Tezuka's again, and they grew wide with a kind of understanding.

"Tezuka," he gasped, looking almost guilty. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to. I…"

"It's alright, Fuji," Tezuka quietly interrupted, the frustration having left his voice some time ago. "Just don't think about it."

The tensai nodded slowly, more to himself than to Tezuka, and buried himself in the former captain's arms again.

"Tezuka," he said softly, after a minute had passed with neither one of them moving. "Does it feel the same to you? Like you can't stop falling, even though you know that you hit the bottom a long time ago?"

The former captain thought about this strange question for a moment. Fuji could hear Tezuka's steady breathing through his chest, lightly punctuated by the sound of his heartbeat. And then came that deep voice into his ear, murmuring an answer…

"I think I know what you mean," said Tezuka at last.

"Don't leave me," Fuji added, much too quickly.

At that, Tezuka sighed, an unmistakable sign of surrender.

"You know I never could," he replied.

- - - - - - - -

Part of Oishi wished that he could say something to Ryoma. But even if he had felt ready for such a task, he had no idea what in the world he could say to the tennis star that would do any good. Something had happened to the boy overnight; that much he could see. And strangely enough, Ryoma was hiding whatever it was quite well.

Had Ryoma, too, already learned the art of simply pretending that everything was fine? Had he learned this out of necessity? What necessity could have compelled him to learn it so quickly?

…

This was something of the train of thought that was running through Oishi's mind, as he sat next to the teenager on Eiji's sofa. But he didn't give a voice to any of his thoughts.

"_Achoo_!" came the now-familiar sound from his current companion.

"Are you alright, Echizen?" Oishi couldn't help asking, with a sympathetic smile.

Ryoma nodded somewhat blankly, grabbing a tissue from the box next to him and blowing his nose.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "It's just a stupid cold."

"Which you got because you were _wandering around in the rain_!" came the agitated voice from the kitchen. Normally, Oishi would have blushed at the sound of that beloved voice, but for the moment, he couldn't resist a chuckle at the scolding tone it was using.

"He's right, you know," Oishi agreed after a moment, turning his attention back to Ryoma. "And you of all people can't be getting sick. You're a professional athlete, after all, and sick athletes can't pay the rent for their parents' penthouse apartment."

Ryoma couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Thank you, Oishi-senpai. I'm glad to know that the sole importance of my health is to ensure that I can keep making obscene amounts of money."

"Well, that's one reason," the former vice captain responded, still smiling. "Another reason might be so that you don't have to keep borrowing other people's clothes."

Ryoma sighed at that, glancing down at the oversized sweatshirt and black jeans that he'd been forced to wear, since his own clothes were currently in the wash.

"At least Kikumaru-senpai's clothes fit me… somewhat…"

"Are you complaining out there?" came the threat from Eiji, who was still out of sight.

"No, Kikumar - _Achoo!_ - senpai," was Ryoma's rather disjointed answer, as he reached for another tissue.

There was a pause, as Oishi again waited for the tennis star to blow his nose. He thought for a moment, trying to decide what to say, and then he just shook his head. It wouldn't do any good to ask him, not yet.

"Oh, Echizen," he said suddenly, remembering something. "Would you mind getting my cell phone for me?"

He pointed to the leather travel bag that Inui had brought over from the hotel earlier, since it seemed that Oishi wasn't going to be returning to his own room any time soon.

"Sure," answered Ryoma, in between sniffling, as he rose from the sofa and started rummaging through Oishi's belongings.

"I hate to bother you, but it seems I've been forbidden to get up from the couch," Oishi added good-naturedly, remembering the scolding he'd received for trying to get up to retrieve the television remote.

"Oishi-senpai, is it in another---"

But Ryoma's question went unfinished, and the tennis star grew suddenly silent. Oishi frowned in surprise. "Is something wrong, Echizen?"

"Oishi-senpai, what's this?"

Ryoma held up a navy blue portfolio folder, the kind designed to hold photographs. At the mere sight of it, an almost dark look came into Oishi's eyes, but his spoken reply was mundane enough.

"Oh, that? That's a copy of Fuji's photography portfolio. He gave it to me awhile ago."

"Fuji-senpai's portfolio?" Ryoma gazed at it, with a mix of curiosity and dread in his golden eyes.

"Would you like to look at it?" Oishi asked quietly, watching the tennis star. "You can, if you want."

"I don't know," admitted Ryoma, coming back to the couch and sitting next to the former vice captain. "Would I?"

He looked straight at Oishi again, with the question shining in his eyes. At first, Oishi wasn't sure what to say, but then he nodded.

"Why don't you take a look?" he proposed. "I think you'd find it interesting."

At that, Ryoma opened the book, fingers running across the smooth cover with anticipation. He began to flip through the pages, slowly, staring at the black and white prints as though he couldn't look away.

And what he saw in that portfolio both fascinated and terrified him, in a way he couldn't even begin to explain.

At first, the pictures seemed random and disjointed, especially in their subjects. There was a photo of a sweet-looking boy, sleeping on the street, right next to a picture of a rose withering on a bush. There was a picture of a little girl wading in a fountain in the afternoon sun, next to a picture of an older woman in gaudy clothes peeking nervously out of a dark alley. There was a beautiful photo of a stone statue wrought with ivy, right next to a photo of a rotting apple, framed with garbage.

The juxtaposition of the ugly with the beautiful was the strangest thing about the first part of the portfolio. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the selected subjects… Although, without fail, each photo was taken at some unusual angle that made the viewer almost dizzy.

"Did Fuji-senpai take all these photos in Paris?" Ryoma asked as he was flipping through the pages.

"I believe he did for most of them," was Oishi's quiet reply. "Although he would sometimes take pictures when he visited me in London."

Ryoma looked up for a moment from the photos, surprised.

"Fuji-senpai would visit you?"

Oishi laughed a little, but there was no mirth in it.

"Yes, he visited me," confirmed the former vice captain. "Although it might be more accurate to say that he came along when Tezuka visited me."

Ryoma frowned. Something about that seemed strange…

"Wait. Why would Fuji-senpai come with Buchou?" he asked, looking intently at Oishi. The older man smiled, almost sadly.

_Of course he would notice that it's strange…_

"Well, Tezuka wastraveling all over Europe, as I'm sure you already heard. But most of the time, when I saw him, he was in Paris with Fuji," Oishi explained softly. "And whenever Tezuka came to visit me, Fuji would always come with him."

Ryoma was about to ask something else, but he thought better of it. Instead, he lost himself in his own questions…

_Buchou and Fuji-senpai…_

_It's somewhere in there. The missing piece is in there. The reason why Fuji-senpai left… and Buchou disappeared…_

… _It's in there. But what is it?_

Unable to answer his own mental inquiry, Ryoma began to turn the pages again.

And then he stopped, frozen, staring at the images that had suddenly appeared in front of his eyes.

They weren't simple photos, like the others had been. These were layered pieces, probably integrated with some kind of photo manipulation technique, carefully arranged and blended together to create a single shot.

The finished effects were beautiful, almost hypnotic… and extremely unsettling.

Oishi noticed Ryoma stiffen as he stared at the pictures, and so he leaned over to see what the tennis star was looking at. When he mentally recognized the images, his expression became knowing, even sympathetic.

"They're strange pieces, aren't they?" he said gently. He reached over to point to one that was a myriad of gauzy fabric, flying insects, and dancing human silhouettes. "I saw him make this one. He takes single photos and blends them together, layering them on top of each other and taking out the pieces he doesn't want."

Ryoma swallowed hard and managed to ask, "He does it on a computer?"

Oishi nodded, continuing, "I think that's why Fuji rarely displays them in exhibits. But I have heard that his professor thinks that they are works of genius, even though he's known as a heavy traditionalist when it comes to photography."

Ryoma gazed at some of the pieces in silence for a moment, and they actually gave him chills. He couldn't quite explain what was so unsettling about them, but he was acutely aware of being disturbed by their strange appearance. One work showed a statue in pieces, smeared with a layer of ink. Another was a picture of a beautiful woman's hair, interlaced with barbed wire and framed with crinkled, aging lace.

"So, people think that Fuji-senpai is a genius?" Ryoma wondered aloud, more to break the silence than anything else.

Oishi nodded, thinking for a moment. But when he began to speak, it was in a slow tone, one that caught Ryoma's attention.

"Of course, people always think that being a genius is a good thing…"

Ryoma looked up at the former vice captain, and the expression in the older man's face sent a shudder down his spine.

"But I would say there is a very fine line between genius and… well, something that is not a good thing at all," Oishi added, in that same slow voice, still looking at the pictures in the portfolio.

"Oishi-senpai…" Ryoma wanted to say something, but Oishi leaned over and started flipping through the pages, as if he hadn't heard the tennis star.

Ryoma watched as the images flew by, full of candlelight and torn silk and grasping hands. And then Oishi stopped, and he pointed to the last picture on the page.

And Ryoma's heart stood still.

"That's Fuji's only self-portrait," Oishi noted, with a subdued hint of pain in his voice. "He took it himself shortly after he arrived at Paris."

Ryoma didn't know what to say. He would have responded, but somehow, he couldn't. Words would have trivialized what he saw before him.

The picture was terrifying.

It was not graphic in nature, or even disturbing in a way that could be explained. But in every subtle trick of the light, in every slight tilt of the tensai's limbs, there was something genuinely terrifying.

The picture showed the tensai behind an oily, cracked panel of glass, in stark lighting. His face was disjointed, fragmented by the shattered section, and the murky color of the pane made it difficult to see much of anything. But the one piece of the tensai that had not been molded to the form of the glass was his glinting eyes. Those eyes stared out from the photo, unshattered, glaring at the viewer with some unreadable emotion.

Suddenly, Ryoma shut the book, trying to block the memory of that picture from his mind. He realized that he was trembling.

…

"_That's right. You're the reason why we're not the people you left behind."_

"_And you thought you were going to save us, didn't you? You really are a fool."_

…

"Echizen? Are you alright?" came Oishi's voice into his train of thought. He shook the memory of Fuji's words from his mind, and took a deep breath.

"Yes, I'm alright, Oishi-senpai," was his quiet response as he stood up to put the book away.

Suddenly, a phone began to ring in the hallway. As Ryoma listened to Eiji answering the phone call, he remembered the reason why he had discovered the portfolio in the first place.

"Oh, sorry, Oishi-senpai," he apologized as he started rummaging through Oishi's travel bag again. "I never gave you your cell phone."

"It's alright, Echizen," Oishi replied, as cheerfully as possible. He could detect Ryoma's reluctance to explain what was bothering him, and so he attempted to play along. "I was just going to check my voice mail anyway."

"Here you go," Ryoma said, walking over and handing Oishi the phone. No sooner had he done so, however, than Eiji came into the room with a strange expression on his face.

"Ochibi, are you feeling well enough to go out for awhile?" the redhead inquired.

Ryoma blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected such a question, but…

"Yes, I'm feeling alright," he replied after a moment. "Why? What's going on?"

"Well, Taka-san gave me a call, and he asked if he could see you for awhile," Eiji explained, sounding unusually hesitant, maybe even a bit worried. "I can drive you to the shop, if that's okay with you."

Ryoma looked back at Oishi, but the former vice captain just nodded.

"Sure, Kikumaru-senpai," Ryoma agreed at last.

- - - - - - - -

"_Go away! I don't want you here! I just want to be alone!" came that angry voice, screaming through the door._

_Kimiko tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. There was no light coming from beneath the door. The room's inhabitant must have been sitting there in complete darkness._

"_Shusuke-kun, please, open the door! I just want to see you," she called, as gently as she could through the unforgiving barrier._

"_Well, I don't want to see you. You can't help me. Now go away!" said the beautiful, cruel voice, the voice like a white flower wrought with thorns._

…

Ryoma walked through the door of the sushi shop, having no idea what could be in store for him there. Still, he was fairly at ease, given that it was only Taka that he would be seeing. He trusted the sushi chef in training, after all. Whatever Taka would say to him, it would be meant in friendship, not to hurt him.

This was something of the mindset he had upon entering, and so he was surprised to see that it wasn't only Taka who was in the empty shop. Sure enough, there was Hoshina Kimiko, Taka's fiancée, sitting by the counter and watching Taka arrange the cooking utensils.

At the sound of the door opening, both of them looked up, each with their own sort of kindness in their eyes as they looked at Ryoma. And suddenly, the tennis star felt just the slightest bit of discomfort.

Why were they looking at him like that…?

"Um… hi, Kawamura-senpai," Ryoma said somewhat awkwardly as he approached the counter.

"Nice to see you, Echizen," Taka said amiably, gesturing to the girl sitting nearby. "I don't believe you've met my fiancée yet. This is Hoshina Kimiko."

"It's nice to meet you, Hoshina-san," Ryoma said politely, even as his eyes started watering from an impending sneeze. He put his hand over his mouth and…

"_Achoo_!"

"Echizen, are you sick?" Taka asked, looking surprised. He hadn't noticed Ryoma's slightly red nose or the way he was sniffling until now.

"I just have a cold," Ryoma answered, somewhat apologetically, as he took a tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose for the thousandth time.

"Really? Well, you should sit down, in that case," Taka said with a concerned frown, gesturing to the stool next to his fiancée. "Make yourself comfortable, okay? I have to go get something out of the freezer, but I'll be back in a minute."

Ryoma nodded and took a seat, watching as Taka left the room. He couldn't help wondering why in the world Taka had asked him to come to the shop in the first place…

"You were talking to Shusuke-kun, weren't you?"

Ryoma was surprised to hear how pretty Kimiko's voice was. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite say what…

However, that thought was completely eclipsed by the realization of what the girl had said.

Ryoma looked straight at her, the shock in his face unmistakable. "How did you know that?"

"You must have talked with him," she replied, very honestly, meeting his questioning gaze. "You have that look in your eyes. You're blaming yourself for something, aren't you? Because of something that Shusuke-kun said?"

Ryoma was absolutely stunned. How could a complete stranger be so dead on about something like that?

And then he remembered.

…

"_Hoshina-san went out with Fuji-senpai during the spring of their second year."_

"_Actually, there were a lot of rumors about Fuji-senpai and Hoshina-san at school…"_

…

"Hoshina-san, you knew because you dated Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said slowly. "Is that right?"

She nodded, and even though Ryoma could see an acute sadness in those honest eyes, she looked very determined, as though she had decided to complete some unspoken task.

"Yes, that's why I knew," she confirmed, a bit softly. "And also because I, too, had that look in my eyes once."

There was a pause, and Ryoma felt as though the air was holding its breath, waiting for something to be said.

"What did you blame yourself for, Hoshina-san?" he wondered at last.

At first, Kimiko was silent, looking as though she hadn't heard the question. And then, she stood up, taking a few steps closer to Ryoma, as though she wanted to whisper something to him. She stood there for a moment, just looking at those expressive golden eyes, and then she seemed to make up her mind to speak.

"Echizen-kun, don't make the same mistake. Don't blame yourself, whatever it was that Shusuke-kun said to you," she began gently, looking at him with a sympathetic expression. "I blamed myself once, and it was very painful for me… And it didn't help him at all."

She took a deep breath then, as if she was gathering her thoughts.

"Echizen-kun, I need to tell you something about Shusuke-kun."

…

"_It isn't always like this, you know. Sometimes I can hear them so loud that I can't ignore them anymore. And then there's this sound… always the same sound… of glass breaking, of it falling and shattering against the floor. It's absolutely terrifying."_

…

"Shusuke-kun is very sick," Kimiko said quietly.

Ryoma didn't understand. He had heard what the girl had said, of course, but it made absolutely no sense to him. The tensai wasn't sick, certainly not as far as he could see… or else there was something more to this statement, something that he didn't comprehend.

"What are you talking about, Hoshina-san?" he demanded, bewildered. "Fuji-senpai isn't sick."

"Well, I didn't think so either, not at first," she agreed, very gently. "Shusuke-kun isn't the kind of person to show his weaknesses, after all."

She thought to herself for a moment, and then sighed and sat down next to Ryoma again.

"Maybe it will make more sense if I tell you some things about the past," she offered. "It's not a pleasant story, but Takashi wanted me to talk you about it."

Ryoma watched her for a moment, as she clasped her hands together and set them on the counter, staring ahead as though she were far away.

"Please do, Hoshina-san," he managed at last, unable to restrain his curiosity.

She smiled a little, as though she were remembering, and then she began to tell her story.

"I didn't attend Seigaku in junior high, but I went to high school at Seigaku since I was a freshman. And as I'm sure you can imagine, the tennis team is famous there. I don't know a girl who attended Seigaku who didn't have a crush on at least one of its members. As I understand it, you experienced something similar in junior high, so I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

Ryoma winced slightly, faintly remembering all the shrieks of the fangirls from his junior high days. Oh, he knew all about that, alright.

Kimiko noted the grimace and smiled a little, but she went on…

"Well, I wasn't as interested in the tennis team myself. I was heavily involved in student council, and that was my main focus. But that's where I met Shuichiroh-kun…"

"You mean Oishi-senpai?" Ryoma interrupted, slightly surprised. He hadn't heard about this part, even though he faintly recalled that Oishi had been the student council president in junior high.

"Yes, that's right," Kimiko nodded, still smiling. "He became a very good friend of mine in high school. And so, of course, through him, I got to know Eiji-kun… and it also wasn't long until I met Shusuke-kun."

Here she stopped, lost in her memories for a moment, recalling the faded emotions of a time that now seemed so far away.

"He was beautiful," she mused, staring at the wall in front of her. "That was what I thought, the instant I saw him. I'm not the kind of girl who falls in love at first sight, but I think there's no better way to describe how I felt about Shusuke-kun back then. Of course, I know now that it was a foolish thing, to get so caught up in an infatuation like that…"

She paused for a moment, and the distant look in her eyes vanished.

"Anyway, I finally worked up the courage to ask him out in our second year. And when he said yes… Well, of course, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. But it was then that I began to see things that I had never noticed before."

She tore her eyes from the wall and looked straight at Ryoma, sounding very serious.

"Echizen-kun, your friends have been through a great deal of pain."

Ryoma looked at those clear gray eyes, and suddenly, he understood why Taka was so in love with this girl. She was honest and sympathetic, obviously, but Kimiko was more than that. She was sensitive to the pain of others. And that, Ryoma knew, was a quality that she shared with her husband-to-be.

"When did you notice that, Hoshina-san?" was all that he said in response.

"I'm not sure when I realized it completely, but the closer I tried to get to Shusuke-kun, the more I noticed how broken his relationships were with his friends," Kimiko replied, choosing her words carefully. "I'm sure that your friends don't talk much about those years, but… Well, they all had their side to the story, I guess you could say."

She took another deep breath, and then she returned to her original train of thought.

"In any case, it's Fuji's side of the story that I know the best. And as it happens, he had a very hard time in high school. I don't know if you heard much about it, but he had a lot of family problems back then."

Ryoma thought about this. At first, he wasn't sure what she was talking about, but then he recalled one thing that Taka had said, three nights ago in that very room…

…

"_Fuji had a lot going on during that time… You know that his brother quit high school and started playing in the minor circuits back then. And his family wasn't too happy about it…"_

…

"I heard that his brother started playing in the minor circuits," he said at last. "Was that the problem?"

Kimiko nodded. She hadn't seen everything, of course, but she could still recall visiting the Fuji household back then, when the tension in the air had been stifling.

And she knew that whatever hints of suppressed frustration she may have felt, it couldn't have compared to what Fuji had endured alone…

…

"_I'm leaving, Aniki. And nothing you say is going to stop me. I don't know why you're always holding on to everything all the time. It's not like I'm going away forever, you know."_

"_Mother and Father are always arguing about him now. You know that. Shusuke, if you'd just say something to them, instead of always hiding away like this… Maybe then they wouldn't fight so much."_

"_Shusuke, I won't hear any more of this! You're going to go to a respectable college and getting a real job, and that's final. You should know better than your little brother. You can't build a life on dreams and desires."_

…

"Shusuke-kun responded to the problem somewhat strangely," Kimiko managed at last, looking very uncomfortable. "He refused to talk about what was going on. I only heard about it indirectly, usually through Eiji-kun or Takashi, who didn't want me to worry too much. But, more than that…"

Her voice grew slower, as though it was painful to explain.

"… He would lock himself in his room at home, for days at a time, and he wouldn't come out."

A chill went down Ryoma's spine, and suddenly, the strange photographs in Fuji's portfolio flashed through his memory.

With the screaming sound of broken glass, those two eyes stared at him from behind the murky windowpane…

"Why? What was wrong with him?" Ryoma asked, more as a way of distracting himself from those frightening images than anything else.

But it was her response that frightened him the most.

…

"_It's an awfully long way to fall, isn't it? ... Especially for those of us standing the closest to the sky!"_

…

"Shusuke-kun has a repressed form of schizophrenia," she said.

…

Ryoma stood up from his seat, and he laughed. It was a hollow kind of laugh, the kind full of the most pained irony.

"That's ridiculous," he said flatly. "Fuji-senpai isn't schizophrenic. He's much too aware of himself for that. And believe me, I know… I…"

He couldn't quite go on, but his mind went ahead a mile a minute, thinking of Fuji, thinking of the rain… Thinking of how there had never been a second where he had doubted that Fuji Shusuke knew exactly what he was doing.

No, this was ridiculous. This was a soap opera. This was a badly-written movie script.

But Fuji Shusuke wasn't schizophrenic.

And yet…

… the gleam in those eyes, behind that shattered windowpane…

…

"Echizen-kun, I understand how you feel," Kimiko was saying. "I didn't believe it either. My father is a psychiatrist, and so he's always analyzing all the people he meets. And so, when I would come to my mother in tears, my father would jump in, saying what 'my boyfriend's signs clearly pointed to…'"

She sighed, burdened with the weight of the memories.

"Of course I didn't believe him. I thought he was just being my father… But even though Shusuke-kun is very self-aware, he could be completely shattered on the inside, and no one would ever know the difference."

Ryoma couldn't deny that much. Whatever else the tensai was, he was a master at hiding his true self.

And if that was the case…

Didn't it make perfect sense that he couldn't believe it?

"Shusuke-kun is a very strong person," Kimiko added sadly. "He is so strong, in fact, that he represses his own symptoms. I don't know how much you know about schizophrenia, but the truth is…"

…

"_Kimiko, dear, you have to understand that schizophrenia is a very specific mental disorder. It doesn't mean that Shusuke-kun is bipolar, or that he has duel personalities. It only means that he has delusions about reality, and quite probably hallucinations of some kind…"_

"_People say that schizophrenics are often prone to drug abuse, especially that of nicotine. Drinking alcohol can also be a way to numb the senses so that the hallucinations are less severe…"_

"_When men are afflicted with schizophrenia, they will usually show the first signs in their late teens…"_

"… _The most typical sign of the disease is when the victim becomes withdrawn from others, and perhaps is incoherent or exhibits strange behavior."_

…

"Shusuke-kun is very strong," Kimiko said again, after she had finished her explanation. "He would never admit that he has a problem like that. But Takashi and I know that this is the truth, Echizen-kun. It's the only explanation that makes sense. And so…"

She paused for a moment, and then added one final thought.

"When Shusuke-kun hit me, or hurt his friends, or ignored his family… I firmly believe that it wasn't really his fault. I hope you can understand, Echizen-kun."

Ryoma had heard everything that she had said, but he couldn't manage a response. He was completely stunned.

It made sense. It made far too much sense…

And it hurt. It hurt, because despite Kimiko's sympathetic words, he couldn't help thinking that the cause of Fuji's illness pointed to only one person…

And that person was him.

He didn't know why he would matter so much to Fuji. And maybe he didn't. But somehow… whatever had triggered the tensai's illness…

… Ryoma had an ugly feeling that it could be traced back to his departure five years ago.

But that missing piece…

Where _was_ that missing piece?

…

"_And you thought you were going to save us, didn't you?…_

… _To save us…._

… _SAVE US!"_

…

"Hoshina-san, thank you for telling me," Ryoma said at last, a strangely determined look coming into his eyes. He met the girl's gaze for a moment, and gave her a slight bow. "And now, if you'll excuse me…"

He began to head toward the door, much to Kimiko's surprise.

"Echizen-kun, where are you going?" she called, perplexed.

"I have somewhere I need to be!" he replied, not even looking back, as he shut the door of the sushi shop behind him.

Kimiko stared at the door for a moment, and then was startled out of her train of thought by the feeling of two strong arms, as they embraced her from behind.

"Where is he going?" she couldn't help murmuring to her husband-to-be.

"I think he's going to find Fuji," Taka answered, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek to thank her.

"Because he's Echizen, after all."

**- end of chapter fifteen -**

* * *

_A/N: Gaaaahhhhh! XDDD This chapter is so late! I'm very sorry, everyone. My sincerest apologies. I had a few commitments this past weekend that I couldn't get out of, and then, the worst thing that can ever happen to a writer actually happened… I got WRITER'S BLOCK! Uggghhhh…. That just figures. Naturally, when I try to go and reveal Fuji's Big Secret, writer's block strikes. … Is that just Fuji for you, or what?_

_Fuji: -smirks- That'll teach you to try and exposit about me._

_Me: … Thanks a lot, Fuji. XP_

_In any case, despite the efforts of Fuji, one of the big secrets is out! … And now, cue the "What in the -bleep- is wrong with your head?" reviews. Lol. XD I also realize there are some things about this secret that aren't fully explained yet. That's just around the corner, though, I promise. And with any luck, perhaps some of you could see this secret coming, based on earlier chapters? Lol, well, maybe not. I mean, it's Fuji, after all…_

_(I do want to point out that most of my descriptions of the disease are 100 percent accurate. The only fallacy was intentional, and that will get sorted out later… It's Ryoma's assumption that his actions could have triggered the disease. But I did want you all to know I didn't make this stuff up… I really did research it!)_

_Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait, despite my incompetence. More will be posted as soon as I can get it up, even though this next chapter will be tricky, so cross your fingers for me. **And let me know what you thought of chapter fifteen!**_

_As always, the FAQ is posted under my author profile, and e-mail me any questions._

_**Coming Up Next:** Having discovered the truth about Fuji, Ryoma figures out the missing piece. With that knowledge, everything begins to fall into place, but the most shocking of all the secrets is still waiting to be discovered…_


	16. Chapter 16: Unspoken and Unrequited

**Chapter Sixteen: Unspoken and Unrequited**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. -sigh-

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter sixteen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Ryoma hits flamers in the face with his Twist Serve. **Lol.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading the story, and special thanks to my reviewers, as always! You're all wonderful. I hope you're enjoying the fic, and **let me know what you all think of chapter sixteen!**

* * *

_You never know what you have until someone else steals it away._

_You never know what you leave behind until it disappears for good._

_I forgot what you meant to me._

_Now it is only my loss._

…

Momo held his breath as he turned the doorknob, glancing behind him as he did so. Sure enough, the only two occupants of the apartment hadn't heard the noise.

The Golden Pair was asleep, on opposite sides of the couch, with the kitten curled up in the space between them. Momo couldn't resist a quick smile at the sight.

_I think they're even breathing in sync._

_Well, they're the Golden Pair, after all._

Silently, he tiptoed out into the hallway and carefully closed the door behind him. Then and only then did he let out his breath, with a quick sigh, and turn around to start walking down the hall…

"What do you think you're doing?"

The sudden inquiry made Momo's heart leap right out of his chest. Sure enough, there was the gruff voice's owner, standing in front of him with his arms crossed and a glare in those snakelike eyes.

"Oh, it's you," Momo breathed in surprise. "Dammit, Viper, you scared me!"

Kaidoh just hissed, eyebrows raised.

"Idiot."

"Oh, shut up," Momo said, walking right past his rival with little more than a shrug. But he found himself stuck when Kaidoh grabbed onto his arm so hard it hurt, making it effectively impossible for him to walk away.

"I asked you a question, you idiot," Kaidoh snarled, eyes glinting. Momo tried to yank his arm free, but his former teammate only tightened his grip.

"What do you want from me, Viper?" Momo just rolled his violet eyes, unintimidated.

"Answer me. What do you think you're doing?" Kaidoh repeated, getting angrier by the minute.

"I'm leaving," was Momo's brief reply. He tried to escape from his rival's grip once more, with similar success. "Will you let me go already?"

"Why should I?" growled Kaidoh, tightening his grip so much that Momo flinched. "So you can go and do something _stupid_ again?"

"What are you talking about, Viper?" Momo actually looked confused, and he held still long enough to stare straight at his former teammate.

"What do you think I'm talking about, you moron?" hissed Kaidoh. "You're up to something. Do you think I'm blind? I know you well enough to see that much. I don't know what you're thinking, but you're in way over your head, you imbecile."

There was a pause as Momo stood completely still, silent. And then an almost dark grin appeared on his mouth.

"Oh---? Am I?" he taunted, practically smirking. "I'm in way over my head, huh? Is that right, Viper? Really, I had no idea."

Kaidoh just glared at that smug expression, completely furious.

"Yes, you are," he said at last, in a low tone. "You're going to get yourself into a lot of trouble, you idiot. You're messing around where you're not wanted, and you…"

"Someone has to," Momo interrupted coldly, wrenching his arm away from Kaidoh's hand with a quick motion. Just like that, he started walking away, but Kaidoh followed him.

"What are you talking about?" Kaidoh demanded, right behind his rival. "Just what are you trying to prove, you moron?"

Momo whirled around and stared right into Kaidoh's face, leaning forward with a completely serious expression.

"I'm not proving something. I'm _fixing_ it. Now, is this any of your business, Viper?"

Those violet eyes were glaring right into Kaidoh's, with a certain light that the snakelike teenager hadn't seen in them for some time. And so it was really out of habit that he choked down his frustration and looked away.

"No, it isn't."

Momo stared at him for a moment longer and then replied coolly, "I didn't think so. Now stay out of it."

With that, Momo turned away again, walking down the hallway and turning into the stairwell, out of Kaidoh's line of vision.

For a minute, Kaidoh just stood there, staring in the direction that Momo had left. And then he hissed in frustration.

"That idiot. Trying to take the weight of the whole damn world on his shoulders," mumbled Kaidoh, eyes glued to the floor. He tried to ignore the stinging feeling that was growing in his chest.

_Doesn't he know I'm worried about him?_

_Momoshiro, you moron._

- - - - - - - - -

Ryoma knocked on the hotel room door for the twentieth time before he finally decided that no one was in there.

_That's odd._

He stared for one more moment at the silent door before shaking his head and walking away. In between sneezing, he tried to decide where to look next. He thought about checking the lobby, but he hadn't noticed either of his former teammates there when he had first entered the hotel. And it wasn't even close to dinner time yet, so the odds were even lower that they were in the restaurant on floor three…

Just before he entered the elevator, he had a burst of inspiration.

As he walked inside the tiny chamber, he pressed the button for the topmost floor.

When the elevator had stopped, he quickly walked out into the hall and up the small stairway to the rooftop. Glancing around somewhat nervously, with scattered memories of the previous night, he scanned the garden for any sign of his former teammates.

He didn't see anyone there, but the garden had plenty of twists and turns, so he began to wander around. He sniffled, noticing with a shudder that it was rather cool outside for summer, probably because of the previous night's rain.

_Why am I here, anyway? It's not like I'd even know what to say to them…_

_It's just… I need to understand something…_

He sighed to himself, hugging his arms to his chest in an attempt to get warm. He glanced at the trees around him, watching as their branches rustled in the breeze. And then he began to head toward the fountain, the place where everything had fallen apart the night before…

Ryoma turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't believe his eyes.

There, sitting on the side of the fountain, was Tezuka Kunimitsu, taking Fuji Shusuke into his arms and kissing him passionately.

Ryoma watched for a moment, completely stunned, before he even thought to be embarrassed. And then, almost before he knew what he was doing, he rushed to hide, slipping behind a tall hedge just out of sight.

He didn't know why he was so shocked, or why he couldn't tear himself away from that spot. But all the same, he found himself listening carefully to the words that the two were speaking…

"You aren't listening to me, Tezuka," came that hauntingly beautiful voice, sounding distinctly frustrated.

"How can I, when you insist on putting it like that?" the deeper voice replied, equally annoyed.

"You know why I can't stand this, when you're always---"

But the beautiful voice stopped in mid-sentence, presumably silenced by another pair of lips, rather than with words.

Ryoma winced, feeling strangely uncomfortable knowing that he was listening to what was apparently a lover's quarrel, not to mention an off-and-on makeout session.

And then suddenly, it hit him.

Echizen Ryoma sank to his knees, sitting on the pavement with something like horror gleaming in his golden eyes.

That was it.

That was the missing piece.

…

"_I heard a rumor a few months ago that even his parents don't know exactly where he is…"_

"_The truth is, they're not the same people you knew. Not anymore."_

"_Fuji-senpai didn't leave because of a girl."_

"_Tezuka doesn't play tennis anymore."_

…

That was it. That was why.

Tezuka had left because of Fuji. And Fuji had left because of Tezuka.

That was it. Ryoma was sure of it.

When everything had fallen apart, these had been the two who had fallen the farthest. Hadn't Fuji himself said so?

…

"_It's an awfully long way to fall, isn't it? Especially for those of us standing the closest to the sky!"_

…

And when they had fallen, they had fallen together.

Were they in love? Ryoma didn't know a thing about that… But they were certainly kissing, they were certainly wrapped up in one another's embrace, they were certainly…

They were…

They…

Ryoma blinked rapidly, trying to expel the stinging feeling from his eyes. There was that feeling again, that pain in his chest…

Why? Why should it hurt him that Tezuka and Fuji were actually… they were actually…

_Oh, God…_

… _Why does it hurt this much?_

Ryoma shook his head, trying to ignore it, trying not to hear the murmuring voices as they hovered in the air above him. He tried to think, tried to sort his thoughts about this missing piece, because either way it didn't answer everything…

… No, it didn't answer everything. It couldn't.

It didn't answer why Tezuka no longer played tennis.

It didn't answer why Fuji had quit, either.

And it didn't answer for the guilt in Tezuka's eyes, or the madness lingering in Fuji's mind.

But this was it.

This was why Oishi said that whenever Tezuka came to visit, Fuji would follow him. This was why Tezuka could be rendered completely helpless with one piercing look from the tensai's blue eyes. This was why Fuji lashed out at anyone who got too close to Tezuka, and with particular ferocity.

The former captain and tensai of Seigaku were tangled together like a knarled thread, and there was no conceivable way that the two could be set free from eachother.

…

Why? Was it love? Or maybe something more sinister?

Of course Ryoma didn't know. But now he could see every element that had led to this point. His own departure from Japan five years ago, and Tezuka's subsequent entanglement with Fuji…

That was what had made Tezuka Kunimistu, Seigaku's pillar, crumble into pieces.

Ryoma was sure of it.

… But just how badly had that pillar crumbled?

Was Tezuka really unable to play tennis anymore? Was there really something wrong with his arm? … What had happened to it?

…

All the questions that were screaming through Ryoma's head began to jumble together in a confusing blur, and the tennis star was left only with that distinct pain in his chest, that ugly reality that was too difficult to ignore.

That pain… Why was it so painful to think about? Why was he in pain, thinking of how Tezuka had fallen apart?

This wasn't just simple disappointment, of having been let down by someone he admired. No, this was something else, something that shocked even him. But in this moment, he could no longer avoid the thought, a thought he had ignored for who knew how long.

… Had he loved Tezuka?

He couldn't quite say. He felt very strongly for him. He always had. This was the man, after all, that had completely changed his life. Before he had met the pillar of Seigaku, Ryoma had harbored no ambitions to be a pro, no desire to improve in tennis beyond the motive to beat his own father. This was the man who had been his goal, his ideal…

And to know that his ideal had crumbled into pieces and was now kissing Fuji Shusuke, the genius who had been the only other person to intrigue Ryoma as Tezuka had…

… He couldn't tell which part hurt him the most.

Was it the feeling of being forgotten, of somehow being left behind by two people he had respected so deeply?

Had he loved Tezuka? Had he maybe even loved Fuji?

Had he---?

If he hadn't, then what was this sharp pain that filled him when he watched the two embrace?

…

Ryoma buried his head in his arms and tried to keep from sniffling. Whatever his feelings, he certainly didn't want the couple to realize that he was there…

"_Achoo_!"

It was out before he even felt it coming, and his hand clamped over his mouth in horror. Had they heard him---?

"What was that?"

Sure enough, the beautiful voice sounded startled, and there was a quick pause before the deeper voice asked, "What was what?"

"I thought I heard someone sneeze," said Fuji's voice, apparently suspicious.

Ryoma's heart was pounding. He scrambled to his feet, hearing the sudden sound of footsteps approaching the hedge. He ducked behind a tree trunk and held his breath.

There was a pause, as the footsteps ceased.

"What are you looking for, exactly?" said Tezuka, sounding almost exasperated.

"I thought it came from over here," Fuji explained briefly, a bit puzzled.

"Well, no one's there," Tezuka sighed in response. "Do you want to leave?"

"Maybe we should," was Fuji's final reply, coupled once again with the sound of slowly retreating footsteps.

After a full minute had passed without Ryoma hearing anything more, the tennis star finally relaxed and began to breathe normally again. He peered out from behind the tree, and sure enough, no one was there. Slowly, he made his way toward the hedge and looked around the corner, but no one was by the fountain either.

Without really thinking about it, Ryoma walked out onto the path and up to the fountain, staring out over the rippling water. He tried to process what he had just learned, and found it decidedly impossible.

In fact, it was starting to give him a headache.

He glanced at the clear water, and then bent over and splashed some of it onto his face. It smelled faintly of chlorine, but it didn't sting his eyes as much as he would have expected. In fact, it was strangely pleasant to feel the cool water dripping down his forehead, easing the faint throbbing.

Suddenly, he gasped in surprise.

He'd just noticed that his wasn't the only reflection in the water.

He whirled around, exclaiming, "Momo-senpai! You scared me!"

It was, in fact, the power player who had walked up behind him, completely unnoticed. Momo just laughed, flashing Ryoma one of his usual carefree grins.

"Sorry about that, Echizen. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear me."

"What are you doing all the way up here?" Ryoma asked, looking completely bewildered. "I thought you had the world's worst hangover."

Momo chuckled at that, surpressing another grin, and then he shrugged. "I did. And what about you? I thought you were sick with a cold."

"I am," was Ryoma's equally informative reply. He looked somewhat suspiciously at his former teammate, trying to read those violet eyes and failing completely. "But I'm staying at this hotel anyway. And as for you…?"

Momo shrugged again and simply answered, "I was looking for you. Why didn't you come back to the apartment? Wasn't Eiji-senpai going to pick you up from Taka-san's place?"

"I never called him," Ryoma responded, very quietly. He looked back toward the fountain, gazing at the winged statue in complete silence. Momo watched the tennis star for a moment with a rather strange look in his eyes. But the expression was gone before Ryoma could notice it.

"You know, if you have something to ask him, then you should just ask him already," Momo said suddenly, attracting the younger man's attention.

"What do you mean?" Ryoma frowned, looking confused.

"I mean, about Tezuka-buchou. If you want to ask him something, then just ask him," was Momo's simple explanation, as he turned away from Ryoma and wandered toward the ledge.

"It's not that easy, Momo-senpai," Ryoma protested, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened to even wonder how Momo knew exactly who was on his mind. He followed in the power player's footsteps, trying to keep up with him.

"Maybe not, but you still should ask him," Momo bluntly replied, leaning against the ledge and staring at the city below. "It's not like you'll be able to stop wondering about it until you do."

"Maybe not," Ryoma agreed after a moment, repressing a sigh.

Why couldn't he stop wondering about it, anyway? It wasn't like it was any of his business, not really…

"You could always give him a call," Momo said very lightly.

"What?" Ryoma had just barely caught what the older man had said, and even with that, he didn't understand the statement.

"It's what Fuji-senpai would do, isn't it?" Momo added, in a tone Ryoma had never heard him use before. "If you want to make sure he's alone, give Tezuka-buchou a call. Tell him to meet you somewhere."

Ryoma thought about this for a moment.

"You think I should call him?" the tennis star repeated, looking as though he needed this confirmed.

But Momo just shrugged. "I don't know. Should you?"

Ryoma repeated the question, looking up at his former teammate. "I don't know. Should I?"

Those golden eyes stared into Momo's purple ones, and somewhere above their heads, the wind picked up for a moment. The faint sound of traffic flew by on the breeze, and Ryoma shivered slightly.

Suddenly, Momo's odd tone vanished, and he smiled again, just like always.

"Well, either way, we should get you inside. You shouldn't be running around on a day like this. Can I take you back to the apartment? I stole Eiji-senpai's car, so you won't have to walk."

Ryoma smirked a little at that. "He's going to be mad at you."

"Aw, Eiji-senpai's always mad at me," Momo replied with a grin. "Come on, you should come back for awhile. Let Eiji-senpai spoil you. He's good at it."

Ryoma shook his head, sighing again. "When did Eiji-senpai become the group nurse?"

"Since Oishi-senpai gave him a reason to accept the position," chuckled Momo, gesturing toward the exit. "Come on, let's go. I'll bring you back to the hotel later."

"Okay," Ryoma agreed, following his former teammate to the door. And in forgetting, for the moment, what he had just discovered… The tennis star forgot to be surprised that the pain in his heart had lessened.

- - - - - - - -

Eiji slowly opened his eyes, and was shocked to discover that it was already late in the afternoon. What in the world---? How long had he been sleeping?

He sprang up from the couch and scurried over to the answering machine, frantically checking for any new messages. But to his surprise, there weren't any.

_That's weird… Why didn't Ochibi call? Isn't he done at Taka's yet?_

He looked at the answering machine in confusion for a moment, but then he shrugged off the question and walked back, more slowly this time, toward the living room.

He sat back down on his end of the sofa, drawing his feet up onto the cushion and sitting cross-legged on the couch. Glancing over next to him, he couldn't resist a smile at the sight of Oishi and the cat next to each other, both fast asleep.

Gently, Eiji picked up the sleepy kitten and carried her over to her basket, giving her a small pat on the head before returning to the couch. He sat right next to Oishi this time, watching his former doubles partner breathe steadily in his sleep.

_Oishi sure is sleeping a lot. I hope he's okay…_

Eiji leaned forward a little, looking very carefully at Oishi's face. He still didn't like the pale color of those cheeks, but he decided that Oishi looked better than he had yesterday, and that thought comforted him.

_Oishi… What made you get so sick like this? Why weren't you taking care of yourself?_

The redhead frowned, with a mournful look in his deep blue eyes.

"Stupid," he whispered softly, leaning a little closer to that sleeping face. "If something happened to you… Don't you know that I would never stop crying?"

To Eiji's surprise, the former vice captain stirred in his sleep, and Eiji found himself blushing, for reasons he couldn't really explain, as those dull green eyes slowly opened.

"Ah… Eiji?" Oishi murmured, sounding faintly confused. "What time is it?"

"Um… it's five o'clock," Eiji answered, almost too quickly. He couldn't help being annoyed with his own nervousness.

_Ughh… what's wrong with me? It's just Oishi, after all._

"Where is everyone?" Oishi wondered quietly, looking around at the darkening apartment.

"Huh?" Eiji was surprised too. He hadn't even noticed that no one else was there. "That's weird. Momo should still be here…"

The redhead got up again from the couch and walked over to the hallway, peeking around the corner. But, sure enough, no one was in the bedroom, and the bathroom was empty too.

"I guess he went out," Eiji said, more to himself than anything else. "But that's really weird. I thought he had a hangover."

"Is Echizen back at the hotel?" came Oishi's voice, interrupting Eiji's thoughts. Eiji sighed and walked back into the living room again.

"I don't know," he replied, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. "He never called me. I guess he's still with Taka-san."

There was a long pause, and Eiji was distinctly aware of the awkward feeling in that silence. Suddenly, the space between the two of them felt like it was a mile wide.

And Eiji was extremely aware of the fact that he didn't like it one bit.

"Uh… so… do you want me to make you something for dinner?" he spoke up, trying to sound quite cheerful. But with one glance at Oishi's expression, he knew he'd failed.

"Eiji."

The former vice captain said it so seriously that it sent a slight chill down Eiji's spine.

"Um… yes?" the redhead managed, swallowing hard and trying not to look away from Oishi's gaze.

"I think we need to talk," Oishi said, very calmly, still staring straight into those deep blue eyes.

"About what?" Eiji couldn't resist a nervous laugh, and he turned away.

It was then that two arms embraced him from behind, and his breath caught in his throat.

"Oishi---?" he whispered, almost under his breath. It was an unfamiliar gesture, something that Oishi had never done before. Eiji had never known what it was like to feel those arms firmly locked around his body…

… He had never known this feeling, but it blew him away.

In that moment, he could sense it. He could sense, for the first time, that there was something between them that had never been there before. Or, rather, he had never noticed it before.

What was it? Was it Oishi? Or was it him?

"Eiji, I'm sorry," that kind voice whispered in his ear. It was trembling slightly, with the emotion behind his words. "I'm sorry for everything that happened. I never meant to hurt you."

Eiji swallowed, trying to choke back the tears. But even though he felt as if his heart had melted into wax, some of the old hurt couldn't help rising into his throat and coming out, in a single question.

"Then why _did_ you hurt me, Oishi?" he asked, almost desperately. He wished he could see his former partner's face… but then, he didn't want Oishi to let go, either…

"I was afraid, Eiji," came the honest answer, very quietly. "There was something I was afraid to tell you. I should have told you before I left… but I… I just couldn't."

Eiji listened carefully, to every emphatic syllable, trying to decipher the emotion behind that reply. But he was so caught up in the sheer force of that emotion, that he was overwhelmed. What was this feeling that was resonating, in every word that Oishi spoke, in the firm embrace of those arms as they held Eiji against his chest?

"What is it, Oishi?" Eiji whispered, eyes wide in surprise.

But there was no answer for a full minute, as the former vice captain simply held his doubles partner close, hiding his face behind Eiji's head. It seemed as though he was about to say something, but he stopped himself and took a deep breath.

"I'll tell you soon, Eiji. I promise," Oishi finally replied, as calmly as he could. "I just… I can't quite say it. Not yet."

Eiji nodded slowly, wishing that his heart would stop beating so hard. And then, just as suddenly as they had embraced him, those arms relinquished their hold. Eiji was free again.

Yes, he was free again… But he felt strangely empty.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Eiji got up from the couch, hoping that Oishi couldn't see that he was blushing. It was just too bizarre, after all, and he didn't want Oishi to ask what was wrong, when he didn't even know himself…

"Well, I'll go make something to eat now, okay?" he said suddenly, managing to sound actually cheerful.

"Okay. Thank you," said that ever-kind voice. Eiji couldn't see it, but those green eyes were even kinder than the former vice captain's words. If the redhead had tried to look, he would have seen the love that was hiding in those eyes. But he didn't look, and so, for the moment, the emotion in those eyes went unnoticed.

Eiji disappeared around the corner into the kitchen, with Oishi watching his every step. The former vice captain was startled out of his reverie, however, by a familiar meow.

"Oh, it's you again," Oishi said, glancing at the cat, which was sitting by his feet. He leaned over and picked up the snow white kitten, holding it to his chest just like he had the day before.

He looked into its clear eyes and couldn't resist a smile. And he whispered in its ear, "Do you think he already knows about me, kitty?"

The cat just purred, nuzzling up against his shirt affectionately.

"Well, maybe," he replied with a slight laugh. "But either way, I have to tell him, don't I?"

And Oishi began stroking the kitten's white fur, getting lost in his own thoughts.

- - - - - - - -

Ryoma wondered for the thousandth time in his life why chicken soup always tasted the best when you were sick.

It was true, that much he knew for sure. And at the moment, that was what he was doing. He was sitting at Momo and Eiji's extremely messy kitchen table and eating chicken soup. Apparently it was the only convenient thing Eiji had in the cupboard… Or maybe Eiji, too, was firmly sold on its healing properties and had decided that the abundance of ill people in the apartment dictated its use as the main course.

Whatever the case, Ryoma couldn't think of anything he'd rather be eating at the moment. He was still sniffling, and the tissue box hadn't left his side since he'd re-entered the apartment. His head felt so stuffed up that he couldn't think straight.

But he wondered if maybe this was for the best, since it had finally slowed down the frantic train of thought that hadn't left his mind since he had heard the truth about Fuji.

_Fuji-senpai…_

Of course, at the mere thought of the tensai, the former captain crowded into Ryoma's mind as well, as did the image of the two embracing by the fountain, and before long he had forgotten what he'd been thinking about again.

"Is the soup okay, Ochibi?" Eiji asked as he came back into the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's good, Eiji-senpai," was the prompt reply, punctuated by another sneeze. Eiji just shook his head.

"You're really sick, aren't you? And what were you doing all afternoon? You better not have been running around in this weather!"

Momo glanced up from his own bowl then, giving Ryoma a wink before saying, "Don't worry, Eiji-senpai. I went to pick him up."

"Well, I'm glad you did, but you weren't supposed to be out and about either." Eiji sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not that you ever listen to me, of course."

"Sorry, Eiji-senpai," Momo said as apologetically as he could, even though his eyes were twinkling with a kind of repressed merriment. Ryoma couldn't resist sharing a conspiratorial grin with his former teammate. It almost felt like old times, when they had picked on Eiji-senpai frequently and forced him to pick up the check at restaurants…

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," was Eiji's annoyed response as he left the room again.

"Don't worry, Echizen, I'll cover for you," Momo assured the tennis star, returning to his soup with a chuckle.

"Thanks, Momo-senpai," was Ryoma's response before they both lapsed into silence again.

It felt weird, in a way, to be sitting there like that at Eiji and Momo's kitchen table. Ryoma had almost forgotten that he was actually supposed to be in California, not in Japan with his friends. And yet, even so, he was in Japan, eating chicken soup with a friend he hadn't seen for five years.

And in the silence of that moment, he suddenly felt like he remembered why he had come back. This was why. For this feeling, this feeling as though he'd come home again.

It had been painful to come back, but suddenly, Ryoma realized that he didn't regret it.

No, he didn't regret it…

Ryoma had already started sipping from his spoon again when he jumped in surprise. Momo's foot had brushed against his leg underneath the table. He glanced up at his senpai, but Momo was flipping through a magazine and didn't notice Ryoma's temporary discomfort, so the tennis star just shrugged it off and went back to his soup.

That is, he shrugged it off until Momo's foot brushed against his leg again, rubbing up and down slightly against his ankle.

Ryoma wasn't quite sure why, but he couldn't help cringing. It felt strange, and it was making him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Err… Momo-senpai?"

"Yeah, Echizen?" Momo glanced up from the article he was reading, his violet eyes meeting Ryoma's candidly.

"Ah… umm…" Somehow, Ryoma didn't know what to say. He felt himself draw his foot away from Momo's, almost unconsciously.

"Oh, was that your foot?" Momo questioned with sudden comprehension. "Oops. My bad."

There was a pause. Ryoma felt like he was thinking in slow motion, so confused were his thoughts, and his left eyebrow began to twitch.

"Momo-senpai," he managed, completely bewildered. "What did you _think_ it was?"

Momo looked up again and shrugged. "I dunno… I thought it was a table leg. But then you moved, so…"

He just shrugged again and looked at Ryoma for a moment. The tennis star was trying to regain his composure, distinctly aware of how trivial his discomfort had been and attempting to forget about it.

"Why? Does it bug you?" Momo asked after a second, a distinctly mischievous expression in his eyes.

"Of course it bugs me. Wouldn't it bug you?" Ryoma replied, somewhat annoyed.

"This really bugs you?" prodded Momo, still grinning, as he stretched out his leg and rubbed his foot against Ryoma's yet again, this time obviously intending to bother the tennis star.

Ryoma glared, unamused by the joke, and stepped hard on his senpai's foot.

"Ow!" Momo winced in pain. "Hey, I was just kidding, Echizen!"

"Mada mada dane." And Ryoma picked up his spoon and continued eating his soup.

…

A few hours went by before Ryoma really noticed that it was getting late. The four current occupants of the apartment were sitting in the living room, watching some random news show, when Ryoma glanced at his watch and realized it was past ten o'clock.

"I should get going," he said at last, removing the cat from his lap, as he stood up from the floor.

"Okay, Ochibi. I'll get the door for you," Eiji replied, getting up from the couch and walking with him down the hall.

"I'll return the clothes tomorrow, okay?" Ryoma added as Eiji opened the door, glancing at his borrowed attire. Eiji nodded amiably. "Sure thing. Your clothes will be dry by then, too."

"Okay. See you later, Eiji-senpai."

And with that, Ryoma walked out the door, shutting it behind him. No sooner had he done so than he whipped his cell phone out of his back pocket and quickly dialed a number.

…

"_If you want to make sure he's alone, give Tezuka-buchou a call. Tell him to meet you somewhere."_

…

Ryoma held his breath, waiting for someone to pick up the phone on the other line.

"_Hello?" _

There was that familiar deep voice on the other end.

"Hi, Buchou. It's me," Ryoma managed, swallowing hard. He hadn't expected the pain to return to his chest at the sound of that voice… But he tried to ignore it.

"_Echizen? Is something wrong?"_

"No, nothing's wrong," replied Ryoma as calmly as he could, even though his heart was skipping every other beat. "Buchou, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"_What is it, Echizen?"_

"Can we talk tomorrow? Alone?"

There was a pause on the other line. Ryoma waited for a response, tense with anticipation.

"_When?"_

Only one word, but Ryoma could tell it meant yes. And so he gathered his thoughts as quickly as he could.

"Tomorrow morning. At the overpass a block from the hotel."

"_I'll be there."_

The other line went dead after the brief reply, and Ryoma found himself trying to catch his breath, staring at his cell phone.

_So that's it._

_Tomorrow morning._

**- end of chapter sixteen -**

* * *

_A/N: Whew! I finally beat out the writer's block and managed to finish chapter sixteen! I hope you all enjoyed it. It was a bit difficult to finally complete this one, but I'm pretty happy with it. Plus, we've gotten further in the plot, right? And that's always good, lol._

_Well… I'm sure I'm forgetting something I should be saying in this author's note. But my brain's a bit fried right now and I can't think of it, so… I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks to everyone who's still reading! XD_

_Oh, and I'm very sorry this chapter took so long to post. I'll do my best to be quicker with the next one. Sorry in advance for leaving you all hanging! XD I'll try my hardest!_

_In the meantime, thanks for all your continued support, and **please let me know what you thought of chapter sixteen!**_

_As always, the FAQ is posted in my profile, and feel free to e-mail me any questions._

_**Coming Up Next:** The biggest secret of the past is finally revealed, the secret about the pillar himself. Is Ryoma ready for the ugly truth? Or is this truth too much for him to handle?_


	17. Chapter 17: Hope to Die

**Chapter Seventeen: Hope to Die**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis. No, really, I don't!

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter seventeen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers will be sucked into the alternate dimension that is "Tezuka Zone." **Lol.

Well, here it is. One of the most important chapters in the whole fanfic. Let me just say that this one is for you all. All you reviewers and all you faithful readers, too. You're all amazing, and I can't thank you enough for giving my fic a chance and reading up to this point. Hopefully you are all still enjoying the story? Well, please do enjoy this chapter! One teensy warning: This is, without a doubt, the most angst-ridden chapter of them all. With any luck, it will still be enjoyable. It begins, by the way, with a flashback, and there are quite a few flashbacks from this point on. Those scenes are italicized. **Well,** **let me know what you all think of chapter seventeen!**

* * *

_I had a dream last night._

_I dreamed that I was falling, deeper and deeper… falling into the sea…_

_I reached for you with both arms, as I fell._

_The water in front of my eyes turned blood red._

…

…

…

_Fuji reached for the book lying next to Oishi's foot. He picked it up and gazed intently at the cover, trying to decipher the English title._

"'_American Poems.' That's what it says, right?" Fuji asked, catching Oishi's attention. The former vice captain glanced at the binding and nodded. "Yeah. It's one of the books for my poetry class."_

_The three overseas students were relaxing in Fuji's apartment, snug and comfortable inside the heated living room. Outside, the rain was pouring down with unhinged aggression. It reminded Oishi more of English weather than the usually temperate Parisian climate. He turned his attention away from the window and back to the tensai, who had begun flipping through the textbook._

_Fuji had just opened to a page that had been marked with a small piece of paper. He stared intently at the English headings, translating them in his head._

"_Walt Whitman," he said finally, with a kind of satisfaction at having figured out the pronunciation. "An American poet, hmm? Aren't American poets rather unsophisticated?"_

"_I wouldn't say that," Oishi replied slowly, gazing at the open book. He knew which poem Fuji had turned to. He had marked that one for a personal reason…_

"_Well, read it," Fuji urged, holding the book out to Oishi._

_There was a momentary pause. Oishi found himself glancing at Tezuka, who was sitting by the fireplace reading a novel. But the former captain didn't seem to be paying any attention to their conversation._

_Almost reluctantly, Oishi gave Fuji a slight nod and took the book from the tensai's hands._

_He took a deep breath, and he began to read…_

"_Oh Captain! my Captain! Our fearful trip is done…"_

_The words caught Fuji's attention immediately, and Tezuka too looked up from his book. Oishi didn't ask why they were so interested. He knew why. After all, they both understood spoken English remarkably well…_

_And as for their interest in the subject… well… he knew why._

_He continued…_

"_The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;_

_The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,_

_While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:_

_But O heart! heart! heart!..."_

_Here Oishi's voice first began to waver, but he kept on bravely and finished the stanza without stopping. Everything else in the room was completely still._

"_O the bleeding drops of red,_

_Where on the deck my Captain lies,_

_Fallen cold and dead."_

_As though he had forgotten where he was, Oishi continued on through the rest of the poem, reading the second stanza as passionately as though it was he himself who had penned the lines…_

"_O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;_

_Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;_

_For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;_

_For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning…"_

_Oishi had risen to his feet now, still pronouncing the words with a strange amount of feeling. Fuji was listening, completely spellbound. In his mind, the words were not being spoken by Oishi. They were being spoken by a voice that had appeared out of thin air, a voice that echoed in his thoughts as vividly as condemnation itself._

_His blue eyes were wide with the force of those words. In a strange way, he seemed to already know what they were going to say, before Oishi could even pronounce them…_

"_Here Captain! dear Captain!_

_This arm beneath your head;_

_It is some dream that on the deck,_

_You've fallen cold and dead."_

_Oishi suddenly slowed down at the last stanza, an almost horrified expression on his face as he spoke the lines._

"_My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still…"_

_Tezuka was watching his friend's face intently, listening to every word. And when Oishi paused and looked straight at him, he knew._

_Oishi was speaking to him._

_The memories of that horrible night filled Tezuka's mind…_

"_My Captain does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will."_

_Those dull green eyes stared straight at Tezuka. Oishi's eyes never returned to the book, as he recited the last stanza flawlessly, in an almost hollow voice._

"_The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;_

_From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;_

_Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!"_

_Oishi's voice shook as he gazed at Tezuka's face, watching as the firelight danced across those amber eyes._

"_But I, with mournful tread…"_

_Tezuka looked as pale as a corpse, even in that flickering light. _

"_Walk the deck my Captain lies…"_

_Suddenly, Fuji's beautiful voice joined Oishi's, and they recited the last line together. _

"_Fallen cold and dead."_

- - - - - - - - -

Ryoma woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed. For a moment, he wondered where he was… and then he recognized the hotel room, and he remembered again.

He had slept very badly. In fact, he couldn't remember ever having such a restless night, full of tossing and turning and haunted by all kinds of nightmares. It wasn't like Ryoma to have bad dreams, not at all…

… But then again, everything that had happened to him lately was "nothing like him."

Trying to shrug off the memory of the worst of the dreams, he tossed the bed sheets aside and got out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was still early, but it was long past dawn, and he knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Not now.

Not when it was already morning…

…

"_Tomorrow morning. At the overpass a block from the hotel."_

…

No matter how Ryoma looked at it, he had been waiting for this. He had been waiting for this moment ever since he had returned to Japan… No, even longer than that. He had been waiting for this ever since he left, five years ago…

Five years ago, when he had said goodbye, and he had cried.

He had made a promise to Tezuka, to all of them, before he had left on that airplane so long ago. It seemed so far away, when so much had happened, when so much had come between them, so much more than oceans and miles and hours…

And yet…

…

"_I'll come back, Buchou. I promise."_

…

This was it. He had waited to see Tezuka again. He hadn't realized how badly he had wanted this, until Tezuka had returned to Japan himself. Ever since the moment when the former Seigaku Regulars had stood, reunited, in the hotel lobby, Ryoma knew.

Ryoma knew that, sooner or later, this moment had to come. The moment when he would understand what had happened, when he would understand everything…

Why had Tezuka disappeared? Why did he leave for Germany? Why had everything fallen apart like this?

… Had he _really_ quit tennis?

Ryoma couldn't even imagine what he would do if that were really true.

_Maybe that's why Oishi-senpai warned me._

… _But I have to know._

Ryoma looked out toward the large window in the hotel room. One of the curtains was only partially shut, and the faintest color of dawn could still be seen in the morning sky.

_It was sunset back then._

_But it's dawn now, Buchou._

_And I have to know._

- - - - - - - -

Tezuka stood in his hotel room, staring out the window at the fading dawn. He watched as the sunlight filled the busy city, marking the start of another day. But even with the light before his eyes, his thoughts were filled with darkness. The darkness of a horribly black night, and of rain…

…

_It was a stormy day, and the whole world seemed dark. It reflected Tezuka's state of mind all too clearly. It had already been months, months since that infamous defeat at the Kantou Regionals. It should have been the farthest thing from his mind, and in a way, it was._

_And yet, since that horrible day so many months ago, Tezuka had never quite been the same. He knew this was true, and he had tried to shake it. He acted as though everything was the same, and given his stoic personality, he was quite sure that very few people had even noticed the difference…_

_He would be alright, anyway. He had already been accepted into an excellent college in Kyoto, on a generous scholarship. The school was right next to a training center, and Tezuka would be able to complete his college studies and continue playing tennis at the same time._

_That was his goal, of course. To play tennis. To become a pro._

_Because that was where Echizen was, after all._

_Echizen Ryoma. It had been so long since he had seen the boy in person. Three years, to be exact, and in a way, he hardly remembered why that boy had such a hold on him in the first place. But Tezuka did remember why he played tennis: just like he had taught Ryoma to do, he too was reaching higher and higher. He was aiming for the top. He was going to stand on top of the world as a champion._

_That was what he had been born to do, and if it also resulted in being able to face Ryoma on the championship court one day, so much the better._

_That was his dream. That was his life._

_Tennis._

… _But it really was such an ugly day, Tezuka couldn't help thinking as he packed up his things to go home. It was strange, that bad weather should have had such a negative effect on him. Normally, he hardly would have noticed. But today… the day was just so horribly bleak, with those reluctant rain drops pouring down like tears…_

_Tezuka shrugged off the thought. It was ridiculous, after all, to let the rain upset him._

_It was ridiculous. … but even so…_

_Tezuka slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to leave, only to see Fuji Shusuke standing right in front of him, staring very intently into his eyes. The tensai's own blue eyes were open, glinting with an unusual light._

"_F-Fuji…" Tezuka stammered, only slightly… But he really couldn't help his surprise. He hadn't noticed the tensai come up alongside him. Normally, he noticed things like that, but today, he hadn't heard a thing…_

"_Tezuka," was Fuij's simple reply. He was still staring, and Tezuka felt a chill go up his spine._

_Fuji was starting to do that lately. Making Tezuka feel uncomfortable, that is. It had never happened to the stoic tennis captain before. Nothing fazed him... _

_But lately, Fuji's slightly strange behavior had genuinely started to disturb Tezuka, to leave him vaguely unsettled even hours after they had parted ways. He couldn't quite say what it was about Fuji that was bothering him, but there was something in those eyes lately that had never been there before… especially since the tensai had broken off his relationship with Hoshina Kimiko…_

… _Though Hoshina Kimiko was the last thing that Tezuka wanted to think about at that moment in time._

_Tezuka took a deep breath and tried to excuse himself from the tensai's presence._

"_If you'll excuse me, Fuji, I'm going to leave now."_

_For a moment, Fuji looked ready to respond with a simple nod, maybe even resume his normal masked smile. But he didn't. He didn't stop staring. What was stranger, he stood directly in Tezuka's way and wouldn't let him leave._

"_Fuji, is something---"_

"_I need to talk to you, Tezuka," came the blunt answer. Those blue eyes were still staring at him; Tezuka could feel them as distinctly as if they were burning into his skin. But he couldn't quite look the tensai in the face, somehow…_

"_What do you want to talk to me about?" the captain finally managed._

"_I wanted to tell you that I've decided where I'm going to college," was the tensai's unexpected reply._

_Tezuka looked up again at that; it had taken him by surprise. Fuji had been wavering on that issue for months, and it was already very close to graduation… Everyone had been wondering where Seigaku's enigmatic genius would be going for college. And he had actually made a decision? And he was here to tell Tezuka, first of all? … It must have been him first of all, because otherwise the whole school would have already been talking about the news, and Tezuka hadn't heard a thing about it... In a way, Tezuka was rather flattered at the distinction._

"_Really? Where?" he asked, with a slightly uncharacteristic eagerness. He couldn't help it; he was very curious. Part of him had been wondering for over two years. After all, he greatly respected Fuji, even apart from his strange decision to quit the tennis team that past year…_

"_I'm going to Paris."_

_Tezuka felt his heart actually stop beating. It was a completely foreign sensation to him, but then, he had never been so surprised before…_

"_You're going where?" he repeated, with only the tiniest hint of shock in his voice._

_Fuji was still staring at him, with that icy gleam in his eyes._

"_I said, I'm going to Paris. I'm running away," the tensai declared, in that beautiful voice._

_It took a moment for Tezuka to really process what Fuji had said._

"_You're running away?" he finally repeated, actually frowning by this point. "What does that mean?"_

_Fuji smiled, but that familiar smile was slightly darker than normal, as though he found something horribly ironic._

"_It means I'm running away," he answered lightly, as though it all made perfect sense. "I'm sick of this stupid island. I want to get away from it all, and so…"_

_Fuji tossed his head, shrugging like the whole matter was completely inconsequential._

"_I thought maybe I could run away. Don't you think that sounds like a much better idea than wasting another four years in this stagnant, heartless city?"_

_Tezuka didn't know what to say. Somehow, watching the tensai shrug off his imminent departure to a whole new continent, for who knew how long…_

… _Something in him was hurt. No, not only hurt. Angry._

"_Well, if that's what you really want to do," was Tezuka's sharp answer, as he wrenched his eyes away from Fuji and started to walk toward the door._

"_What? That's it?" Fuji demanded, sounding about as hurt as Tezuka felt. "I finally know where I'm going to college, and I tell you first of all, and you just shrug it off…?"_

_There was a pause. Tezuka just stood there, with his back to Fuji, as the last trace of that beautifully hurt voice faded from the air._

"_I don't know what you expected," Tezuka said at last, in a low tone. "It's me, after all. Right?"_

_This was said more like a challenge than an established fact._

_And little did Tezuka know, but when Fuji took that challenge…_

_It was the end of his life as he knew it._

_There was a long, painful, ugly pause. A strange expression appeared on Fuji's face then, but Tezuka didn't see the maniacal look in those haunting blue eyes._

_He didn't have to look, though. He was transfixed by the sound of that beautifully cruel voice, as the tensai spoke in a tone that Tezuka had never heard him use before…_

"_Yes, it is you, isn't it?"_

_Tezuka could hear the faint sound of thunder echoing outside the school walls._

"_Yes, it is you. You're Tezuka, after all. You always know exactly where you're going, what you're doing with your life…"_

"… _Don't you?"_

_The last two words were added, not as a confirmation, but as a question. An ironic question, one that was already aware of the fact that the answer was not what it seemed._

_Tezuka noticed this, and suddenly, he realized. Fuji had known all along._

_The tensai already knew about the doubt that had begun to linger in Tezuka's heart, ever since that fatal loss…_

… _Suddenly, Tezuka was afraid. He felt his hand trembling as it gripped his bag._

_That beautifully cruel voice went on…_

"_But you don't really know, do you? I can see right through you, Captain. You don't really know what you're doing, do you?"_

_A flash of lightning shot across the window like quicksilver. The light startled Tezuka out of his frightened trance._

"_I know enough," was Tezuka's curt response, said as evenly as he could. He was determined to walk away. He wasn't going to listen to this, not from Fuji, of all people… not from someone who had quit the tennis team without any legitimate reason…_

_He turned to say goodbye to the tensai, every fiber of his being determined to walk away and never look back at Fuji ever again._

_But in that moment, Tezuka was taken completely by surprise._

_It was the beginning of something that he would never be able to escape for the rest of his life._

_Fuji's eyes were still open, staring straight at Tezuka. That look in those sky blue irises was unmistakable. It was the look of someone who was absolutely desperate, who knew that he had been backed into a corner, that this was his only chance to play his final trump card and put his last bet on the line._

_It was that look that changed Tezuka's life forever._

_The tensai began slowly at first, speaking very softly almost under his breath. But that piercing look in those blue eyes rooted Tezuka's feet to the floor, and he couldn't escape the power of those words…_

"_What do you want, Tezuka? Is this all you want from life? Is this really it?"_

_Tezuka couldn't say a word, couldn't manage a single response to the rant that followed. But it didn't matter. Fuji never intended for him to respond._

"_Is this all there is for you? A perfect plan, with your ambitions fully realized? Is that it, Tezuka?..._

"… _Will you stand alone when you've reached the top, and know that you're truly happy…?_

"_I doubt it! Because when you're at the top, you'll be completely alone. Even now, you're always alone. And I can't believe that loneliness is part of your perfect plan, Captain…_

"_No, Tezuka, if you think all the tennis trophies in the world will make you happy, you're sadly mistaken."_

_Even then, even with every earth-shattering word that Fuji had spoken, Tezuka's world had managed to remain intact. He was still afraid… Every word that the tensai had spoken had hit too close to home… But he was still in one piece._

_Until Fuji iced the cake with his last bitter poison._

"_Well, then, don't think that any of us will be there to keep you company. No… not Echizen, either…!_

"… _I know I won't be."_

_Tezuka never remembered what happened after Fuji finished his bitter rant. He knew that Fuji stormed out of the locker bay… He faintly realized that there had been tears in those beautiful blue eyes… but he couldn't remember how long he stood there, just staring at the exit, long after the tensai had vanished._

_The next thing he knew, though, his feet were carrying him across the rain-soaked pavement. He had no idea where he was going, but he was going there anyway…_

_He had completely forgotten that he had been waiting for Oishi._

_It would turn out to be a very fortunate mistake._

…

Tezuka sighed, trying to shake the dark memories of that day from his mind. Until today, any recollection of that fatal night had remained wrapped in a dull fog, the details hidden away in some forgotten corner of his brain.

But now, he had to remember. He had to.

Because now, he was going to face his conscience. He was going to look directly into those golden eyes, and he was going to tell him.

He was going to tell Echizen Ryoma about the night that Tezuka Kunimitsu died.

- - - - - - - - -

Ryoma took a deep breath, gripping the railing with both hands. He was standing on the overpass near the hotel, watching the traffic flood the street beneath the bridge. It was the busiest time of the morning, the time when every last person in Tokyo seemed to be crowding into the streets below. But on the narrow overpass, it was very quiet. Wherever those people were going, they seemed to have no use for a bridge in the sky above their heads.

Ryoma let his eyes wander upward, and he gazed at the pure blue color of that horizon. It almost took his breath away. He had never seen the sky look quite so blue…

… It made him think of Fuji's sky blue eyes, and that thought made him shudder for a moment.

…

"_It would have been better if you had never come back."_

…

Ryoma frowned at the memory. He hardly knew what he thought anymore, about that encounter with the tensai, about everything that had happened since he had returned to Japan…

… But whatever the case, he was going to see this inevitable cycle through to its end, wherever that end led.

Even if it meant that he, too, was going to fall from the sky and crash into the pavement below.

"Echizen."

Ryoma's heart caught in his throat.

It was him.

He turned to see Tezuka standing there, watching him, looking strangely pale in the clear morning light. It suddenly reminded him of the way Oishi had looked, when he had first told Ryoma that he was in love with Eiji.

It was something like that… but then again, there was something far more terrifying in that shattered look in Tezuka's eyes.

"Buchou… you came," Ryoma finally managed, swallowing hard.

Tezuka nodded, but said nothing.

For a moment, the two just stood there, looking at each other. The wind picked up above their heads, whipping around them like an urgent warning.

Ryoma gathered his thoughts, and then he plunged into his words headfirst.

"Tezuka-buchou, I need to know what happened to you," he said, with a sudden determination. "Why don't you play tennis anymore? Is that really true? I can't believe it, but…"

Ryoma's voice wavered, as he looked into those amber eyes that had become so unrecognizable to him. But he took another deep breath and managed to finish…

"What happened, Buchou?"

Tezuka came up alongside Ryoma, gazing out over the city for a moment in silence. When he did speak, it took the tennis star by surprise. It was a tone that Ryoma had never heard the former captain use, a tone of regret, even of shame.

"Echizen, you knew me. Tell me… what kind of man am I?"

Ryoma was absolutely bewildered, but he considered the question seriously, answering as best as he could.

"I'm sure you know what I think, Buchou," he began quietly, gazing up at the man he had always admired. "You're the strongest person that I know. I've never met anyone as determined or as dedicated as you are. Especially… especially not on the tennis court."

Tezuka looked up at that, almost surprised. For a moment, his eyes sparked, burning faintly with a flame that Ryoma remembered. But just as quickly, that flame was quenched, and suddenly Ryoma realized what it was… that one thing about Tezuka that had changed…

That thing wasn't in those eyes after all. Rather, it was _missing_ from them.

Tezuka had lost the fire in his eyes.

That was what had changed the former captain's appearance so drastically. It had shocked Ryoma, at the first sight of that photograph on Eiji's shelf. And it had made his heart stand still, when he had first seen those eyes in person in the hotel lobby.

Those amber eyes no longer had any light in them. The spark that had once forced Ryoma to his knees on an isolated tennis court was completely gone.

… Why?

But before Ryoma could say a word, Tezuka responded to Ryoma's hesitant answer.

"I'm no longer worthy of such a compliment, Echizen," he said, in a very low tone, as he looked away again. "And for that, I have no one but myself to blame."

A minute passed, then two. Ryoma didn't know what to say, what should be said… He felt as though they were both frozen in time, until at last Tezuka spoke again.

"What I'm about to tell you, Echizen, is something that I've never told anyone else," Tezuka explained, almost in a whisper, as though he was barely able to say it. "I'm not sure if I will even be able to explain it to you, but… I will try…"

…

_Tezuka walked, on and on, into the pouring rain. He was completely soaked, with the rain dripping off of his hair and his clothes, but he hardly noticed. He couldn't even see what was in front of him. Instead, all he could hear was that voice, speaking those bitter words into his mind…_

"Is this all you want from life, Tezuka? Is this really it?"

_He could hear that beautiful voice whispering in his ear, like sugar-coated poison, and it penetrated every fiber of his being until he could no longer distinguish that voice from his own thoughts…_

_He wondered when was the last time that Fuji had said something that had affected him so deeply._

… _When had it mattered so much, what the tensai thought?_

_Tezuka started climbing the stairs to the train station platform. His feet were carrying him slowly home, even though he didn't realize it. He was too distracted to realize what he was doing. People were looking at him sympathetically, to see a high school student who had obviously forgotten his umbrella and was completely drenched in rainwater… But he didn't notice that, either._

_What he did realize fully at that moment was his own painful train of thought, as he walked across the platform and stood near the edge, waiting for the train._

_He had never thought about it before, but now he couldn't get it out of his mind._

_He was doubting himself._

_It was something completely foreign to Tezuka. He never doubted himself. He had his goal, and nothing could distract him from reaching that goal…_

… _But suddenly, the memories of the past few years weighed too heavily on his mind to ignore any longer._

_He thought of that terrible loss at the Kantou Regionals, of that sickening feeling as he had watched Eiji lose so terribly in third singles, only to make way for a worse massacre in the second singles slot…_

_He had watched, completely helpless, as the team he had led was torn to pieces._

_He had watched for three years while his other team had been torn apart, too. His team from junior high. His teammates, the ones he had led to the Nationals, the people he had trusted with his own dream…_

… _They, too, were falling apart. Momoshiro and Kaidoh weren't speaking to each other. Oishi and Eiji had grown apart, a thing completely incomprehensible to Tezuka's mind. And Taka… well, Taka had actually exploded at Fuji one day, and hit him, right in from of everybody…_

_Fuji._

_At the thought of the tensai, Tezuka felt almost sick, and his chest tightened with pain._

"I said, I'm going to Paris. I'm running away."

_Tezuka closed his eyes, tightly, against the cold wind that was biting at his face. But he couldn't ignore the ugly feeling that was growing inside of him, like some kind of tidal wave of depression and fear. … What was this feeling?_

_He didn't know why, but with the news that Fuji was running away to Paris, his whole world had started to shatter._

_Something about it had made him finally realize…_

_He was completely alone._

_Echizen had already left three years ago. And the truth, which Tezuka had never been willing to admit, was that the boy was not coming back. He could see that now. That confident look in all the photo ads showed no sign of regret…_

_Echizen was never coming back._

_Tezuka opened his eyes again, watched the rain fall onto the train tracks below his feet._

_Oishi was leaving too, he thought to himself._

_Oishi was leaving for England. Even though Oishi hadn't been vice captain that year, Tezuka had still relied on him just as much as he had three years ago. Oishi was an irreplaceable friend, and suddenly, the thought of trying to live in a strange place without his friend at his side absolutely terrified him._

_And now…_

_And now Fuji, Fuji Shusuke, Seigaku's former tensai…_

_Fuji, too, was leaving. For Paris, no less._

… _Why was this the one thing that he couldn't possibly bear?_

_He had always been alone, after all._

_So why had the thought of never seeing those blue eyes again…_

… _Why was it driving him to the very edge of despair?_

_Somewhere above his head, Tezuka heard the rumbling sound of thunder. The storm was escalating all around the platform, and the crowd of people nearby drew their arms to their chests, trying to keep warm against the freezing wind. But Tezuka just stood there, blankly staring in front of him, at those train tracks less than a meter beneath his feet…_

_His heart started pounding._

_He could hear the roar of the coming train as it approached the station._

_The weight of his own doubt, of his sudden fear of being alone, was pressing down upon him, fixing his eyes upon those train tracks._

_This was nothing like him._

_This wasn't him. This sudden urge that had seized his heart…_

… _This wasn't Tezuka Kunimitsu._

_He would never do something like this._

_Never._

_Just like he would never doubt himself… just like he would never stand at a train station and fear being alone… just like he would never let his tennis team lose, let his teammates fall apart, let everything shatter into a thousand pieces…_

_Just as he would never let the words of a beautiful angel drive him to suicide._

_The scream of the approaching train resounded in his ears, and that distant light grew brighter, and brighter…_

_He heard that beautiful voice again in his mind, as he closed his eyes, trying to shut out that terrifying light…_

"Tezuka…

"I won't be there."

_He opened his eyes again, and he couldn't escape it._

_He was alone._

_Tezuka didn't even hesitate after that._

_He stepped forward, falling off the platform toward the track below, directly in the path of the oncoming train._

…

Ryoma couldn't believe what he had just heard. He couldn't believe a word of it. It had to be a lie.

He was desperate for this to be a lie.

It was one thing to think that Oishi was in love with Eiji. It was one thing to think that Fuji was schizophrenic.

… But Ryoma could not bear to believe this.

"No, Buchou," he pleaded, every ounce of pain he was feeling coming into his voice. "Please… Tell me you're lying! Tell me it's a lie!"

Tezuka's eyes, too, had filled with pain.

Without a word, his right hand reached toward his left wrist, and his fingers undid the cufflink and pulled his sleeve up past his elbow.

Tezuka Kunimitsu's left arm was disfigured and covered with scars, proof of his nearly successful suicide attempt at a Japanese train station over a year ago.

**- end of chapter seventeen -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** Because I am a geek, I had to put that poem by Walt Whitman in the first scene. It's called "O Captain! My Captain!", and ever since I first watched Prince of Tennis, it reminded me very much of Tezuka. It's actually a brilliant piece written about Abraham Lincoln's assassination, and one of my absolute favorite poems of all time… But, yeah, sorry if that was too weird for any of you! I also changed two of the words so that it was more relevant to Tezuka, in case anyone who's read the poem noticed.

_A/N: Aagghhh! Sorry this is such a cliffhanger! XD But you all know Tezuka's secret now… The question left, of course, is why he did it, and also what happened afterwards, not to mention exactly how his arm was injured… Don't worry; I'll get to that! And because this is such a horrible cliffhanger, I'll do my best to finish the next chapter asap. If at all possible, I'll post it sometime this weekend, okay? In the meantime, sorry for all the suspense! Gaaahhh, you all must want to kill me… XD_

_Well, anyway, what do you think? **Let me know what you thought of chapter seventeen, everyone! **And rest assured that this story is far from over, even if the best-kept secret was just revealed. As you can imagine, the Seigaku Regulars have a heck of a lot to deal with now that all of this is out in the open…_

_As always, the FAQ is posted in my profile, and e-mail me any questions you may have._

_**Coming Up Next:** The source of Tezuka's guilt over Oishi is revealed, along with what else happened on that rainy night where Tezuka made the worst mistake of his life. As for Ryoma, the tennis star is left to face the reality of this horrible truth, and he comes to realize exactly why it happened._


	18. Chapter 18: Fragmented Eulogy

**Chapter Eighteen: Fragmented Eulogy**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… No kidding.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter eighteen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Taka shouts nonsensical English phrases at flamers. **Lol.

Here's the promised chapter! I did it as soon as I could… Hopefully this will help ease any suspense-related anguish caused by the last chapter, lol. Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews. Once again, I was truly amazed that people are enjoying the fic this much, even with all the angst. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! **Let me know what you all think of chapter eighteen!**

* * *

_What do you do, when something has broken into a million pieces?_

_When you cannot put it back together again, no matter how hard you try?_

_Do you leave what you loved behind? Do you forget it…?_

_Or do you cradle those pieces in your arms and cry through the night?_

…

Ryoma stared, horrified, at Tezuka's disfigured arm. He was desperate for everything that Tezuka had just said to be a lie. It had to be a lie; it couldn't be real… But that arm was unavoidable proof, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that this was the absolute truth.

Tezuka Kunimitsu no longer played tennis.

It wasn't just that he didn't. He _couldn't_.

It was this realization, in and of itself, that was making Ryoma's heart slowly break.

"Buchou," he said suddenly, painfully. "I don't… I don't understand this! How could you do something like that? How could you…"

Ryoma wanted to finish his sentence. He wanted to say it, with all the hurt he was feeling, but the words caught in his throat…

_How could you do this to me?_

Tezuka just stared at Ryoma for a moment, gazing helplessly at the betrayed look in those golden eyes. It was everything that the former captain had feared it would be… But he couldn't take it back. It was the unavoidable truth.

He suppressed an anxious sigh and reached for his sleeve, pulling it back down over his arm in order to hide the offending scars from view.

"Echizen," he began, very slowly. "I… I never intended to disappoint you like this…"

"Well, you did!" was Ryoma's bitter interruption. To Tezuka's dismay, tears were forming in the tennis star's eyes, tears that the boy was obviously trying to hide as he averted his gaze from the taller man.

"Echizen…"

But Tezuka didn't know what to say. There was nothing he could say. He couldn't take it back… it was the horrible, awful truth…

Ryoma tried to will the tears away, tried to force them to disappear, but they wouldn't go away. Instead, they began to slowly drip down his face.

… Why was he crying? He didn't cry! This was just so ridiculous… that he should cry over this man, as though…

As though he had loved him.

… No, he couldn't have loved Tezuka. He couldn't have loved someone who threw away his ambition because of a rainy night. He couldn't have loved a man who had tried to kill himself to escape his own pain. No…

The man he loved… if he had ever loved him… That man was dead.

Ryoma shut his eyes, tightly, trying to stop his own tears. There was no point in crying them, after all. He wouldn't cry for this Tezuka. He refused to lower himself to cry for this disappointment…

…

"_You're just a disappointment."_

…

…

Where had Ryoma heard those words before?

The teenager shook his head, forgetting his own train of thought. He was desperately conscious of the fact that he should say something, should do something… Tezuka was standing there, waiting for _something_… But there was nothing. What could he say? What could he do?

There was just nothing there.

Nothing at all.

There had been something there before, something between the two of them... But now, it was gone.

There was nothing left.

Ryoma took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. The tears had stopped, but that throbbing pain in Ryoma's chest had not. And as he looked into the shattered amber eyes of his former captain, he knew there was only one thing left that he could do.

"Goodbye, Buchou," he said, sounding almost hollow.

Echizen Ryoma turned around and walked away, crossing the bridge over to the other side. He didn't look back.

And Tezuka Kunimitsu, former captain of Seigaku, just stood there, watching as Ryoma walked away.

Again.

- - - - - - - - -

_Oishi ran up the stairs and onto the train station platform, quickly scanning the crowd for any sign of Tezuka. He had been delayed at his student council meeting, but the former vice captain had still expected to find Tezuka waiting for him in the locker room. And so, upon finding that the tennis captain had already left, Oishi had hurried to make it to the train station. He figured that Tezuka must have decided to wait for him there._

_Wiping the rainwater off of his face, Oishi looked around anxiously for any sign of his friend. Tezuka hadn't quite been himself lately, and Oishi was a little worried about him. It wasn't like Tezuka to be depressed, even if the stoic captain never said much either way…_

_And so Oishi couldn't help feeling a bit relieved when he saw Tezuka waiting for the train, standing by himself at the end of the platform._

_The vice captain let the worry melt from his face and rushed to meet his friend, opening his mouth to call out his name…_

_Suddenly, his eyes opened wide with horror._

_Oishi watched as Tezuka stepped forward, falling off the platform toward the track below. He was directly in the path of the oncoming train._

_It seemed to Oishi as though all the world flashed white with the pain of the impact. He was too shocked to realize that had been the effect of a stray lightning bolt, a product of the raging storm. And… was the sky shrieking at this terrible sight? Or was the train frantically screeching to a stop, because the driver saw what had happened?_

… _Oishi didn't know. He could never remember afterward what had occurred in those terrifying seconds when his reality crumbled to pieces._

_The next thing he did know, he had already jumped off the platform and was rushing toward the fallen form, that broken heap lying right next to the train._

_People were screaming at him above his head, but they sounded like nothing more than a faint murmuring in his ears. He kneeled on the rain-soaked ground, looking at his friend's body, lying there like a statue in ruins._

Oh, God…

He's still breathing…!

_Oishi's horror subsided into gratitude, at the sudden realization that the captain was still alive._

"_Tezuka? Tezuka…!" He leaned forward and gently turned Tezuka toward him, trying to see the captain's face._

_It was then that Oishi realized that the captain's body, and the side of the train, and now his own hands… Everything was lightly splattered with blood._

Oh God…

_Oishi lifted Tezuka into his arms, as carefully as he could, making sure not to pull Tezuka away from the train._

_Because if he had done that…_

_Tezuka's arm might very well have come right off._

…

Oishi was sitting on the couch, staring absently at the television. He couldn't help wondering with a slight smile if maybe today he would be allowed to get up off of the sofa.

_That Eiji… it's not like him to worry over someone like this… I wonder why it is that he…_

He was startled out of his train of thought by the sound of a knock on the door. Before he could even try to move, however, he was interrupted by a familiar command.

"Don't you dare get up, Oishi! I'll get it."

Oishi sighed to himself and submitted, watching Eiji come out of the side hallway and walk up to the front door of the apartment. Somewhat curious, he craned his neck to see who it was, only to discover that it was Ryoma standing in the hallway.

"Oh, Ochibi, it's you. Come on in!" Eiji was saying cheerfully, opening the door a little wider so Ryoma could walk inside.

Ryoma complied without a word, and it was then that Oishi could see that something was very wrong. There was an unmistakable look in those golden eyes, a pained expression that cut Oishi to the heart.

He knew, of course. He knew what must have happened.

_Echizen… you didn't actually…_

"Are you here for a visit, Ochibi-chan?" Eiji was saying, not yet noticing the look in Ryoma's eyes. "I think Momo went out somewhere, but I could call him, if you want me t---"

"That's okay, Kikumaru-senpai," Ryoma interrupted in a low voice, walking slowly down the front hallway. Eiji blinked in surprise.

"What's wrong, Ochibi?" he asked, more softly than before, following in the boy's hesitant footsteps.

"It's nothing, Kikumaru-senpai," Ryoma mumbled, coming into the living room and stopping suddenly, as though he didn't really know where he was going. "I just… I came to say goodbye. I'm leaving Japan tonight."

Eiji's eyes widened, and he looked at Oishi in shock, but Oishi didn't seem as surprised to hear this sudden declaration.

Eiji was about to protest when Oishi shook his head, giving his former doubles partner a very meaningful look. Eiji paused, and then he nodded in understanding, disappearing again into the side hallway.

Oishi watched Eiji leave, and then he turned back to the silent tennis star. His eyes filled with compassion, looking at the crestfallen expression on the boy's face.

"Echizen, can I talk to you for a minute?" Oishi finally inquired, as gently as he could.

Ryoma stared blankly at the former vice captain for a moment, and then he nodded, sitting down next to Oishi with a kind of resignation.

"Did you talk with Tezuka?" came the question. It was answered with a simple nod. Oishi gazed thoughtfully at the tennis star, trying to read the hurt in those downcast eyes.

"He told you about _that_ night, didn't he?" Oishi added. He didn't need a nod for an answer, though. He could already see the answer to that question written all over Ryoma's face…

…

"_It will break your heart."_

…

"It certainly was the worst night I'd ever been through," Oishi remarked, slowly, with the pain of the memory in his voice.

Ryoma looked up then, somewhat surprised. "You were there, Oishi-senpai?"

Oishi met Ryoma's puzzled stare and nodded.

"I saw him fall off the platform… And I watched while it hit him."

Oishi's eyes darkened at the faint recollection of the screaming train, and the younger man shuddered at the thought.

"Why didn't it kill him?" Ryoma murmured, a blend of horror and curiosity in his voice.

"He didn't fall right in front of it," Oishi explained, still speaking very slowly. "The train grazed past him on one side, and he fell down in between the track and the platform… But he was dragged underneath the train, and then…"

…

_Oishi stared, horrified, at the sight of Tezuka's arm underneath the train, caught in the machinery between the wheels. He couldn't even tell if the whole arm was still intact. It was broken and twisted within the unforgiving grip of steel. The damage was so bad on one side that Oishi could see the torn, bleeding muscles underneath the skin, punctured by a splintered piece of bone._

_At the mere sight of it, Oishi felt absolutely sick._

_Suddenly, he felt Tezuka stir in his arms, and his attention turned back to the captain. He watched as those eyelids slowly opened, revealed two shattered amber eyes._

"_Oishi---?" he said slowly, brokenly. He was completely bewildered by the sight of his friend's face above his own. "Am I… alive?"_

_Oishi's throat tightened as he listened to the dull tone of Tezuka's voice. But he managed a nod in response._

_Blankly, Tezuka looked over at his arm, mangled in the train's machinery. He didn't seem to think much of it, and he quickly turned his head back toward Oishi._

_Tezuka was surprised to see tears in his best friend's eyes._

"_Oishi, what---?"_

_But his question went unfinished, as Oishi just shook his head, tears dripping down his face._

"_Don't talk anymore, Tezuka. Don't… You'll strain yourself, and…" Oishi had to stop. His voice was shaking too much to continue. Instead, he held Tezuka closer to his chest, trying to hold back his own sobs._

"_You'll be okay, Tezuka," he insisted brokenly, trembling with the sudden shock. "You'll be okay. I swear… I swear I won't leave your side. Not until you're okay again. Everything will be alright…"_

_He buried his face in Tezuka's rain-soaked hair, clenching his teeth in desperation, trying to stop shaking._

"_Just don't die!"_

_Oishi was never sure afterward if it had been the rain dripping off of their faces, or… Or if, on that dark and stormy night, he had cried over Tezuka, and Tezuka Kunimitsu had cried with him._

…

"It was a miracle, they said, that his arm wasn't ripped clean off his body," Oishi added quietly, eyes staring off into space. "He went through quite a few surgeries, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been…"

"Wait," Ryoma interrupted suddenly, looking confused. "You're saying that he was hospitalized during the spring of your senior year. Why doesn't everyone else know about this?"

He couldn't help remembering the time at Taka's sushi shop a few nights ago, when everyone had argued about what really had happened to Tezuka.

…

"_Do you know why Tezuka-buchou ran away to Germany? Do you?"_

"_There's a rumor circling around about Tezuka that you haven't heard yet…"_

…

Oishi sighed. The answer to that particular question was especially unpleasant.

"The entire incident was kept a secret by Tezuka's family," he said at last, confusing Ryoma even further.

"What do you mean, 'kept a secret'? Why would they---?"

Somehow, Ryoma couldn't quite finish his question. He didn't like the dark expression that was coming into Oishi's face. For the first time, to Ryoma's eyes, the former vice captain looked truly angry, but he was obviously trying to keep calm.

"His family was very upset about it, I suppose you could say," Oishi began, in a very low tone. "They're… they're a very well-respected family, and… Well, I guess you could say that the mere idea that their son would do something like that… It was a shock to them."

"Oishi-senpai, what are you trying to say?" Ryoma asked, distinctly aware that the former vice captain wasn't being entirely upfront with him.

Oishi took a deep breath, trying to decide how to explain this particularly ugly result of Tezuka's worst mistake.

"His family was hurt, Echizen," Oishi finally said. "And I can understand that. I mean… I can't imagine what it would be like if your own son attempted suicide. Especially if your son was Tezuka. Tezuka was always responsible, and they had always been proud of him… And then… and then _that_ happened…"

Oishi trailed off, staring blankly at the opposite wall. He could remember those horrible days, the weeks following the attempted suicide. In fact, he remembered them all too well.

…

"_But, Tezuka-san, he really needs you here," Oishi pleaded to Tezuka's mother, who had her back turned to him as she walked down the hallway of the hospital._

"_Please, Tezuka-san, don't leave!" he added, a hint of desperation in his voice as he tried to keep up with her rapid pace._

"_I can't stay here any longer, Oishi-kun, so do not ask it of me," came the woman's pained voice, tinged with bitterness. "I simply cannot bear it. To think that my own son would shame his family like this…"_

_She stopped walking, putting one hand to her forehead in anguish._

"_Shame his family?" Oishi repeated, suddenly angry. "Why is that the one thing you can't bear? What about Tezuka? He wanted to die, Tezuka-san! Don't you care about him at all?"_

"_Of course I care about him," she responded quickly, sighing in frustration. "And that's why I cannot bear this…"_

_She paused for a moment, clenching her teeth._

"_If he cares about us, if he cares about his family, as we cared for him… How could he hurt us like this? That is what I cannot bear."_

_Oishi could find no reply to that, and so he only watched, helplessly, as Tezuka's mother walked out of the hospital and never looked back._

…

"I guess I can't blame them for it," Oishi sighed at last. "Suicide is a terrible thing, after all… I'm sure it would have been very damaging for the family, if it had gotten out that their son tried to kill himself."

He looked back at Ryoma, his eyes dull and cold.

"Because of that, the family made sure that Tezuka's name was never released in the press reports about the incident. They also made a deal with the school so that Tezuka could graduate, even though he was hospitalized for part of our last term. The official word was that he was taking an extended college visit to Kyoto."

Taking one last deep breath, Oishi concluded, "I was the only person outside of Tezuka's family who knew about the injury back then. And they swore me to secrecy."

"Does anyone else know about it now?" Ryoma asked suddenly, looking as though he had just realized something.

"Fuji does," Oishi replied, confirming Ryoma's suspicions. "He discovered it awhile later, though, after Tezuka decided to transfer to Germany."

Ryoma sat in silence for a moment, thinking about this. The pieces were all falling into place, but Ryoma was distinctly aware of the nagging feeling that all the mismatched parts hadn't become a whole truth just yet…

"Is that why Buchou left?" Ryoma murmured at last, almost to himself.

"Is what why he left?" Oishi repeated, perplexed. Ryoma looked up again, solemnly meeting the former vice captain's gaze.

"Did he leave because he didn't want anyone to know about his injury?" Ryoma slowly clarified, almost as though he was figuring it out just as soon as he said it…

…

"_I heard a rumor that even his family doesn't know where he is."_

…

"Buchou didn't want anyone to know that he had tried to kill himself, right? Because that would have hurt his family, and…"

Ryoma's words began to speed up, and his eyes widened with a realization.

"… And because Buchou would never show his own weakness in front of others. Except…"

The tennis star looked straight into Oishi's eyes, and Oishi couldn't help feeling strangely unnerved by that stare.

"Except in front of you, Oishi-senpai," Ryoma finished, his eyes glinting with comprehension. "That's why you know everything. And you're still hiding something… Aren't you?"

There was a pause, filled with tension, as Oishi realized what Ryoma meant.

"Tell me, Oishi-senpai," Ryoma urged, almost begging. "Tell me… Why did Buchou's eyes look so guilty when you collapsed two days ago?"

Oishi was silent for a moment longer, looking into those golden eyes. And then, almost against his will, he replied.

"Well, that wasn't really Tezuka's fault," he began hesitantly. "But on the night he tried to kill himself, I did ask the paramedics if I could help him somehow…"

…

"_He's lost a great deal of blood," one of the doctors in the hospital was saying to a nearby nurse, who was busily scribbling down all the current information about Tezuka's condition. "He'll need some kind of transfusion after the initial procedures."_

"_It's a real problem," another assistant added, glancing at the nurse's records. "He's a type O, after all, and transfusions for type O patients can only come from a type O donor. It's a less common blood type, and our supply of it is already low."_

_Oishi was listening to all of this as he watched the other paramedics wheel Tezuka into the emergency room._

_Suddenly, he remembered._

"_Excuse me, Doctor," he said, approaching the two men and the nurse, who looked rather surprised to see the victim's friend talking to them. "If he needs a transfusion, you can take it from me."_

"_That's very kind of you, I'm sure," the doctor began. "But as I was telling my associate…"_

"_I'm type O," Oishi cut in quickly, surprising the three medical workers further._

"_You are?" The doctor glanced at the nurse and then at his assistant. "Well, in that case, we could use your help…"_

…

"Of course, it was a very small thing to do," Oishi quickly added while Ryoma listened attentively. "I was fine afterwards, maybe slightly anemic, but nothing to be worried about. But when Tezuka found out, he was very upset."

Oishi sighed, more to himself than anything else, and leaned back into the couch.

"He's like that, you know," the former vice captain observed. "He hates to trouble anyone. But I never regretted it, not once. And that's why I…"

Ryoma watched, as a sudden warmth came into Oishi's eyes.

"That's why, more than anything else, I want Tezuka to be happy," Oishi concluded, glancing at Ryoma. "You understand, don't you, Echizen?"

Ryoma barely managed a nod. He was too deep in thought to reply.

_That makes sense._

_Buchou is like that… he doesn't want anyone to get hurt for his sake…_

… _Which is why…_

…

"He blames himself for everything," Ryoma muttered, almost under his breath. Oishi blinked in surprise, but he didn't say anything, waiting for the tennis star to continue.

"He thought that it was his fault that everything fell apart," added the teenager, in a slightly louder voice. "He thought it was his fault, that he was the one who failed to support you all. And that's when he started believing that he should die."

Ryoma looked up again, and in that moment, the two men understood together.

"He couldn't stand the thought of letting everyone down," Ryoma finished, eyes wide. "That's why he jumped."

Oishi nodded slowly, as though this was the first time he had thought about it like that.

"That's not the only reason, though," Oishi observed quietly. This time it was Ryoma who nodded.

He could see that much all too well. He didn't quite see the whole picture just yet, but he hadn't forgotten what Oishi had told him three nights ago.

…

"_The person that changed Tezuka is Fuji. Tezuka himself is hardly even aware of it. But it's the truth…"_

"_How do we affect other people? Sometimes we don't even realize our own power over others... And that's what happened with Fuji and Tezuka."_

…

Suddenly, Ryoma stood up in the middle of Eiji's living room, a strange look coming into his eyes. Oishi couldn't quite read that expression, and it was rather unnerving, especially when Ryoma had already said that he was leaving Japan that very night.

"Echizen…?" he asked softly. "What is it?"

"It's nothing, Oishi-senpai," Ryoma answered somewhat blankly. "It's just that… I finally understand. I can't help him, not anymore."

Oishi frowned, not liking the tone in the boy's voice, or the words he was speaking, for that matter.

"Echizen, what are you talking abou---"

"I can't help him. It's not up to me," Ryoma went on, hardly heeding the former vice captain. "And so… There really is no reason for me to stay here. Not anymore. So… Goodbye, Oishi-senpai."

Ryoma was on his way out the door before Oishi could even react.

"Echizen! Wait!" Oishi rose to his feet, calling out Ryoma's name at the exact same moment that the tennis star shut the door behind him.

It was too late.

- - - - - - - - - -

Tezuka stood there, leaning against the railing of the bridge, watching as the world went on so far below him. Heedless of the passage of time, he blankly observed the people marching purposefully below, headed to offices and to schools, to places they were needed, places they were expected to be…

It had been a long time since anyone had expected anything from him.

He didn't think much about this, though. Instead, his mind was filled with visions of golden eyes, eyes brimming with the bitterest tears he'd ever seen.

_I never meant to disappoint you, Echizen…_

_Please believe me._

He leaned forward and rested his body against the railing, burying his head in his arms.

_I know I let you down._

_Could you ever forgive me, Ryoma?_

Tezuka didn't cry, even though he was alone. He didn't feel the need to cry, either. He was simply empty inside… But even a hollow heart could ache with the pain of regret.

That had always been his promise to himself, after all.

He would leave no regrets behind, no matter what he did.

… When had he forsaken that promise?

Tezuka took a deep breath, trying to ignore his own train of thought. It was useless to look back on the past, when he could no longer do anything to fix it… and yet, that horrible, nagging feeling wouldn't leave him…

"Was Echizen here?" a voice suddenly said, taking Tezuka by surprise.

He looked up to see Inui standing next to him, staring out at the towering cityscape.

"Inui…" Tezuka trailed off for a moment. Even he couldn't hide the question in his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Inui didn't respond to that. Instead, he repeated his question.

"Was Echizen here?"

Tezuka nodded, still staring at the data man with a marked perplexity in his face.

Inui brought his hand up alongside his nose in that familiar gesture, pushing his glasses upward.

"I thought so," came the calm reply. "The chances were high that he would confront you today."

"Confront me about what?" Tezuka asked, somewhat defensively. He knew exactly what Inui meant, of course, but still… It was strange that Inui should know that much. Even if he _was_ Inui.

"About whatever it is you've been hiding from all of us," Inui responded frankly, turned his head slightly toward the former captain. "Don't think that Echizen didn't notice it all along, either. He wanted to know about it since the day he came back here."

Tezuka said nothing for a moment, turning away from Inui again and staring out over the crowded streets.

"I know he did. That's why I came back," Tezuka finally replied, just as blunt as Inui had been.

The data man couldn't resist a slight smile at that. "I figured as much. It would appear that even Tezuka Kunimitsu has his weak points."

Tezuka couldn't help shooting his former teammate a characteristic glare, but he relented after a moment and sighed.

"I have too many of them, really," he admitted in a low voice, frowning.

"That doesn't surprise me," Inui assured him amiably. "I'm sure we all do."

In the following pause, the two men listened to the faint rumbling noise of the traffic below, punctuated by the ring of a car horn.

"It merits the question," Tezuka said suddenly, the slightest hint of amusement glinting behind his lenses. "Does Inui, too, have a weak point?"

Inui coughed somewhat self-consciously, in an attempt to hide his own discomfort.

"Well, that particular piece of data is confidential," he noted.

"Naturally." Tezuka suppressed a faint smile.

There was another pause, as they both glanced upward at the sky. The sun was at its highest point, poised to begin its slow descent toward the distant western horizon.

"He's going to leave," Tezuka said suddenly, catching Inui's attention. The taller man noted the way Tezuka's hands were tightly grasping the railing as he spoke.

"You think Echizen's leaving Japan."

It was a statement, not a question. Nevertheless, Tezuka responded with a slight nod.

Inui glanced upward one last time, watching the way the clouds slowly slipped across the sapphire blue sky. When he did speak again, he continued with an authority in his tone that he normally reserved only for his most crucial tennis matches.

"There's no way to know that for sure, however. As best as I can tell, the odds of him leaving before the day is out are holding at exactly 50 percent."

Inui turned his head back toward the former captain.

"I suppose you could say that our last chance has become a coin toss."

He then reached in his pocket and took out a small notebook, a different one than the familiar green kind that he used for tennis statistics. He flipped to a page that contained only a few quick scrawls, and he then ripped it right out of the notebook.

Inui held up the piece of paper, letting go of the edge and watching as it alighted on the breeze, flying through the air in a haphazard pattern.

Tezuka looked on, as that piece of paper turned over and over in the sky, rising up on the wind and then falling quickly to the street far below.

"As for me," Inui added, somewhat hesitantly. "My bet is that he'll stay. What do you think, Tezuka?"

Tezuka said nothing, watching the stray piece of data plummet toward the ground, until the paper flew under the bridge and vanished from view.

Slowly, he looked back up at his former teammate, and he replied, very seriously.

"I'll take you up on that bet, Inui."

He paused, thinking for a moment.

"It's one that I'd be happy to lose."

- - - - - - - - -

Ryoma was making his way across the familiar city sidewalk, gradually heading back to the hotel. He had every intention of going straight to his room and packing up his things, to prepare for the night's departure.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

There was one last thing he wanted to do before he left.

This one last thing… He needed to do it. For closure's sake.

He quickly turned around and headed for the nearest train station. He had one last call to make before he left for America and returned to his life of fame and fortune, before he forgot that this whole thing had ever happened…

In fact, it was the reason that he had returned to Japan in the first place.

**- end of chapter eighteen -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** Yes, Tezuka does in fact have the O blood type, as does Oishi. And it is true that people with type O can only receive type O transfusions, even though type O blood can be given to any other blood type. I don't think type O blood is really much rarer than other types, but since it can be used for anything, it makes sense that it might be in short supply at any given time in a hospital.

_A/N: Sorry this chapter didn't quite make it up by the end of the weekend! XP I tried really hard, but several things were working against me… One being that I had to deal with my finances this weekend. Bleah. Well, in any case, here's the chapter at long last! This one had to pick up a lot of loose ends, so hopefully I didn't confuse anyone with all the necessary exposition. O.o Actually, most of this was supposed to be in chapter seventeen, but obviously it was too long to fit into one chapter. Hopefully the whole Tezuka situation is getting a bit clearer. As for what Ryoma will do, well, you'll see! XD Oh, and I've been asked how many chapters are left… I'm not 100 percent sure, but I can say at this point that it's probably around 25 or so, since it's going a little bit slower than I expected. Also, many people are looking forward to some Golden Pair resolution and some answers about Momo and Kaidoh… I'm happy to say, I'm finally getting to that part! So as they say, stay tuned, lol._

_By the way, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to **TypicallyAznGurl**, with many apologies that I did not finish it in time for her birthday. I really wanted to, honest! So I hope you'll accept the late birthday present!_

_Oh, and I'll be updating asap, but as a forewarning, I have a paper due this week, along with a fairly important exam. So the next chapter will probably be posted this coming weekend, unless I manage to squeeze it in sooner…_

_Well, thanks for your continued support, everyone! I really appreciate it! -bows- I'll do my best on the next chapter. In the meantime, **let me know what you thought of chapter eighteen!**_

_The FAQ for this fic is posted in my profile, and you can e-mail me any questions you might have._

_**Coming Up Next:** On the verge of leaving Japan for the last time, Ryoma remembers one thing that he still wants to do. But will this final visit change his mind about his decision to leave? Or will it change his whole life forever?_


	19. Chapter 19: The White Message

**Chapter Nineteen: The White Message**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… Seriously.

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter nineteen! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers are punished with either laps, or Inui Juice, or Ryoma's snarky comments, or all three! **Lol.

Here's the next chapter, at long last! Sorry for the delay, but real life got in the way of my writing for a little while… I tried really hard to make this chapter enjoyable, though. It's also by far the longest chapter, so I hope it was worth the wait. Again, a HUGE thank you to all reviewers and loyal readers! Without you all, this fic would have never made it this far. **Well, let me know what you all think of chapter nineteen!**

* * *

_There was something I always wanted to tell you._

_I never found the words, but they burned on my heart._

_It was a message of longing, and of gratitude…_

_I never said it, but I always wished that I had._

…

Ryoma stood in front of the building and lifted up his head, taking a good look at his current surroundings. The sight stirred the memories locked away in his mind, and he found himself recalling the first time that he'd walked up this same pathway, completely unaware that his life was about to change forever.

He couldn't resist a tiny smile, remembering how apathetic he'd been on his first day of school. Little had he known what would happen when he decided to attend Seishun Gakuen for his first year in junior high…

… But then, how could he have possibly known what was in store for him back then? His first and only true friendships? A newly-acquired ambition in life? A turn of events that would eventually lead to four straight Wimbledon championships? Well, of course not…

But it did make Ryoma feel strangely nostalgic, even though he would have never admitted this fact out loud.

A bit slowly, he began walking around the large building, taking the familiar stroll to the back of the school, where the tennis courts were. Everything was quiet; presumably the students were on summer break. It was certainly getting late; the faint glow of sunset was coating the pavement a burnished gold.

Ryoma turned a corner and stopped in his tracks.

There they were. Just like always.

He walked toward the chain link fence, peering through the wire into the tennis courts. The familiar green tint of the surfacing and the crisp white lines hadn't faded at all, even though his own memories had become clouded with the passage of time. And that elusive smell of dust and leaves, of sunlight and wind, still lingered in the air…

The strong sense of déjà vu pervaded his mind, until he thought he heard those familiar voices on the passing breeze, the last remnant of some typical practice session from five years ago…

"_Echizen! You're getting careless. Pick up your pace!"_

"_The Regulars have to complete 50 laps. Each one must be done in under a minute. If you fail, you'll be drinking this as your reward…"_

"_Gaahh! Inui, what did you PUT in that? It's so gross, nya! And that's the nastiest color I've ever seen!"_

"_Fssssshhhhh. That's disgusting, senpai."_

"… _I wouldn't mind trying it. I think it looks rather tasty."_

"_You're the only one, Fuji…"_

"_Hey, Echizen! If I beat you, you're paying for dinner!"_

"… _Since when did I agree to that?"_

"_What, are you scared I'll beat you? Mada mada dane, Echizen!"_

"… _You'll be the one paying, Momo-senpai!"_

"_Hey, Taka-san, here's your racquet! Catch!"_

"_Eiji, what are you---"_

"… _BURNING! Come on, baby! Running for life!"_

"… _What is he even saying?"_

"_All of you, stop goofing off, or you'll be running EXTRA laps!"_

"… _Yes, Buchou."_

…

Echizen leaned up against the chain link fence with a quiet sigh. There was a smile on his face. He really couldn't help it. It wasn't like him to be so nostalgic, to carry the memories of years gone by like they were priceless treasures…

… It wasn't like him, but ever since he'd left Seigaku, he had never been able to shake the impact of that life-changing year.

Never. Not even once. He couldn't forget, even if he tried.

Those faces, those voices, those crazy times when they'd done a thousand stupid things, and laughed and smiled and sweated and practiced together…

He couldn't forget them.

In the end, that was why he'd come back. It was for those memories, for the time he had spent wearing that blue and white jersey as a part of Seigaku's tennis team…

No, it wasn't even for the memories.

It was for _them_.

For those teammates who had befriended him, despite his aloof personality, and who had considered him their equal and their comrade. For his first and only friends, who had accepted and understood him like nobody else could. For the eight teenage boys in the photograph that he had treasured for five long years, far away from their smiling faces…

It was for them.

It was not for the men they had become, however. Ryoma had not been prepared to accept the changes that time had brought to those familiar faces…

In fact, that was why he had hesitated so long in coming back. He had been afraid of what he would find, afraid that they would already be changed beyond repair…

Ironically, that fear had been what sealed his fate.

He would never find those teenage boys again.

And yet, in that moment, as Ryoma lost himself in his memories, he didn't think of the chance he had lost. He didn't think about the eventual fate of the friends he had cherished, either.

No, he only thought of those eight boys, as they had been, as they always would be in his heart.

And he smiled.

- - - - - - - - - -

Behind a desk, a seated figure was calmly pouring tea into a porcelain cup. After replacing the teapot, the person grasped the cup's handle and brought it to their mouth, blowing slightly on the steaming liquid.

Suddenly, the door opened, and the familiar figure was distracted.

"Oh, Inoue, it's you," Ryuzaki Sumire noted, looking faintly surprised. "What in the world are you doing here?"

The reporter walked in with a friendly smile and a certain degree of familiarity.

"Yes, it's me, Ryuzaki-sensei," he replied with a chuckle. "I could ask the same of you, though. It's summer break, isn't it? Why are you still working?"

Sumire just shrugged at that and returned to her tea, glancing at the jumble of papers on her desk.

"I'm sure you know why. I'm trying to arrange the brackets for the next intramural match."

Inoue nodded, leaning over to take a look at the messy documents. But there was a kind of question in his eyes, one he didn't hesitate to voice aloud.

"I thought that the captain had some say in that, though," he noted. "Is that right, Ryuzaki-sensei, or is my memory failing me?"

Sumire set her teacup down again and grinned.

"If your memory is failing you, then I'm in trouble, aren't I? No, you're right, the captain has always had a say in it. Although I haven't let the captain make the brackets himself for a few years now…"

Inoue looked up from the pile of papers and met Sumire's eyes, giving her a significant look.

"Not since Tezuka-kun retired, is that right?"

Sumire laughed a little, getting up from her chair and pacing behind her desk.

"Actually, you're only half right. I also trusted his successor with that particular responsibility, if you recall."

Inoue smiled too, remembering.

"Ah, indeed. I'd forgotten that… Somehow I can't help thinking of that first year as the more important of the two."

Sumire stopped by the window, staring out at the brilliant glow of the flowering sunset. Her eyes grew somewhat distant as she listened to the reporter, and she nodding slightly.

"Neither can I."

Inoue leaned toward the desk, trying to make out a particular name on one of the papers. But the scrawled ink didn't say what he thought it said, and so he forgot about it and returned to the topic at hand.

"Junior high tennis will never have a year like that one again. Wouldn't you agree, Ryuzaki-sensei?"

There was a pause, and Inoue noted the reminiscent air of the aging coach.

"No, it won't," she agreed at last, with a faint chuckle. "But I seem to recall you saying something awfully similar five years ago… About how Japan would never have another Echizen Nanjiroh."

She grinned and glanced back at the somewhat discomfited reporter.

"Your prediction was a bit off that time, wouldn't you say?"

"I admit it, I admit it," Inoue agreed, laughing amiably. "Although I wasn't completely off, after all. There never was another Echizen Nanjiroh..."

At that, Sumire couldn't help nodding again, as Inoue concluded his train of thought.

"… Echizen Ryoma was something else entirely."

"You're right about that," she assented, directing her attention back to the window. "He certainly was something else, wasn't he?"

"He _is_ something else," Inoue corrected, his hand grasping firmly onto the shoulder strap of his carrying case. "That boy just won a fourth straight Wimbledon championship. Nobody can keep track of all the records he's broken already, and he hasn't even hit his peak yet, not by a long shot…"

Inoue expected some kind of cynical interruption from the older woman, but he received none at all. Surprised, he glanced at her, only to find her staring out the window with a startled expression.

"Ryuzaki-sensei?"

The old lady just smiled, with a distinct sense of irony.

"It would seem that no one can keep track of _him_, either," she said suddenly, much to the reporter's confusion.

"Ryuzaki-sensei, what do you---?"

Inoue came up to the window, to see what she was looking at, only to find a very familiar figure standing far below them, next to the tennis courts.

"Well, well," Sumire was saying, a smile on her wrinkled face. "It looks like Echizen Ryoma has come back to Japan. And it only took him five years to do it."

At that, she just shook her head, with a distinct air of disbelief.

- - - - - - - - -

Ryoma was about to resume his walk around the courts, when he heard the sudden sound of approaching footsteps. He turned his head, only to see three very familiar people heading toward him.

"Hey, Echizen!" Horio waved, approaching the tennis star with his typically casual demeanor.

"Uh… hey," Ryoma replied, looking faintly confused. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Actually, we were wondering the same thing about you, Ryoma-kun," Katsuo explained quickly, glancing at his two friends. "We were just walking back from the high school, when we saw you come in here."

"The high school?" Ryoma repeated. "Isn't it summer vacation?"

At that, Kachiro couldn't resist a smile. "Oh, well, you see, we were getting in some practice time."

It was only then that Ryoma noticed that the three teenagers were carrying tennis bags.

"You were playing tennis?" Ryoma couldn't help sounding rather incredulous.

"Yes, we were playing tennis," said Katsuo with a chuckle. "And thank you, Ryoma-kun, for your obvious confidence in our ability to hold a racquet."

Ryoma couldn't help smiling a little at the good-natured attitude of his former classmate.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "It's just… Well, I've never seen you guys play or anything…"

"No offense taken, Ryoma-kun," Kachiro quickly assured the tennis star with another smile. "So what are _you_ doing here?"

Ryoma was silent for a moment, glancing back at the courts behind him. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain something like this, after all…

He didn't even notice the three friends exchanging very significant looks in that pause.

"Hey, Echizen, do you mind if we show you something while you're here?" Horio said suddenly, catching Ryoma off guard.

"Um… sure."

"Alright, then! Follow me!"

And so Ryoma found himself following his three former classmates into the school building. It was strange, in a way, to be walking through those empty halls, lit only with the dim glow from the outside. In fact, something about it made him feel vaguely uncomfortable, as though he were entering a place where he wasn't really welcome…

Ryoma almost ran into the back of Katsuo when all three of them abruptly stopped, right in the middle of the hallway.

"You guys, what---"

But Ryoma's question was interrupted, as usual, by the talkative Horio.

"So, Echizen, does any of this look familiar?"

The self-proclaimed tennis expert was pointing to some large glass cases in front of where they were standing. A few of them were filled with various kinds of athletic awards, but there was one glass case that held tennis trophies exclusively. Ryoma did remember that case. He'd looked inside it himself, once or twice, curious about the previous awards that Seigaku had already received in his favorite sport…

Now the case seemed to hold his past, frozen behind a thick glass panel.

There was that beautiful National Championship trophy, the one he had never seen, sitting on the center shelf in all its shining glory. There were other trophies, too, ones that he didn't recognize, from the years after he'd left…

Strangely enough, though, the trophies weren't what held his attention, not even the gleaming brightness of that championship cup. Instead, his eyes lingered on the framed photographs nearby.

He took a few steps closer to the photos, leaning in to read the brass nameplates. Sure enough, they were team photos of the regular players from various years. And, just like with the trophy, the one in which he was most interested was situated right in the center of the shelf.

There they were. His teammates, just as he remembered them. Captured forever between sheets of glass and framed in polished wood.

He couldn't help smiling a bit to himself, seeing how happy those faces looked. They were all gathered around the National Championship trophy, posing for the camera with very characteristic expressions of their satisfaction. Eiji was flashing a victory sign at the camera, the most flamboyant gesture of the group, but the others were also showing a surprising amount of excitement at their achievement.

Even Tezuka was smiling, as he held the trophy up for the camera. It was then that Ryoma noticed that the captain looked distinctly relieved, as if a huge burden had just lifted off of his shoulders.

Fuji, too, was smiling, but Ryoma was surprised to find that the tensai also had his eyes open. It was with a sharp intake of breath that he realized that he had never seen Fuji so genuinely happy before. Those bright blue eyes were actually sparkling with delight. The mere sight of it made Ryoma's heart skip a beat.

As for the former vice captain, Ryoma was secretly glad to see how absolutely overjoyed he looked. Oishi was standing right next to Tezuka, presumably at the direction of the photographer. But his doubles partner had also squeezed in next to him on the other side, just so the catlike tennis player could put one arm around his best friend. Ryoma was sure he'd never seen Oishi so happy before or since.

It was such a sharp contrast to the vaguely unsettling photo he had seen in Eiji's apartment, that Ryoma almost believed these three were completely different people.

The others were happy, too, and in seeing their various expressions of contentment, Ryoma could have laughed aloud with amusement. Momo was giving the camera a decided thumbs-up and a wink, with a grin so bright that Ryoma almost wanted to give the two-dimensional representation a thumbs-up back. Taka, too, was clearly excited, and was pumping one fist in an elated expression of victory. Inui was pushing his glasses up with one hand, a very familiar gesture, but Ryoma could have sworn that he saw those eyes glittering behind those lenses, pleased. And even Kaidoh, the ever-sullen Viper, had a genuine smile on his face and an almost relaxed expression.

It was absolutely nothing like his most current impression of these eight familiar faces. In fact, it was unlike anything he'd ever seen from them before, except in his most cherished memories, the ones he kept the closest to his heart.

Like that one time, when they'd all stood together at sunset…

"It was the best match they ever played," Horio said suddenly from behind, startling Ryoma out of his reverie. The boy sounded almost awestruck as he recalled that particular day...

"First, Inui-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai in second doubles. Then the Golden Pair in first doubles. Momochan-senpai in third singles, Fuji-senpai in second singles… And Tezuka-buchou in first singles, finishing in straight sets. They got all five wins, right in a row. I don't think they've ever played better than they did on that day. You should have seen it, Echizen."

"And you should have seen Kawamura-senpai, too," Kachiro interjected, with a gentle smile on his face. "He was so excited. I've never seen him cheer like that. He was waving the flag around like crazy, and when Momochan-senpai got the clincher win, he charged at him like an express train and squeezed the life out of him."

"Kikumaru-senpai, too," added Katsuo with a slight laugh. "I've never seen a flying tackle like that one, not before or since. The senpais were absolutely crazy about it. I knew it meant a lot to them, but I never expected them to act like that. It was like… like they were somewhere up in the sky or something, and there was no way anyone could touch them."

Ryoma couldn't help listening. The way his former classmates were describing it, he could almost see the whole thing happening right in front of him.

And even though he hadn't been there, something about it was making his heart beat faster.

"And what about Fuji-senpai and Tezuka-senpai?" Kachiro was saying to Horio and Katsuo. "I don't think I've ever seen such perfect form, not ever. They absolutely took my breath away, even if their matches were just a formality. Don't you remember how everyone was screaming like mad, cheering them on? It was like tennis had never been so exciting before, and everyone just wanted to keep watching and watching…"

"And then just like that it was over! And they'd won it. The National Championship." Katsuo was nodding to Kachiro in agreement, sounding almost mesmerized. "It really was something, wasn't it? I don't think I'll ever see a better tennis match than that one, not ever."

"I think Tezuka-buchou almost cried, too," Kachiro said very softly. "I'm sure that I saw tears in his eyes for a second, when they handed him the trophy at the ceremony…"

But he interrupted his own comment with a laugh and added, "Of course, I was crying already, so maybe it was my imagination. I know Oishi-senpai cried, though."

"Of course Oishi-senpai cried," Katsuo chuckled. "Lots of people were crying. _Horio_ cried."

Horio was coughing, somewhat discomfited. "That's beside the point."

At that point, Ryoma really couldn't resist a laugh, which immediately caught the others' attention.

"Ryoma-kun?"

"Sorry," he apologized, regaining his composure instantly. "It's nothing."

The tennis star directed his attention back to the photographs, leaving his former classmates to again exchange looks.

"Is it just me," Kachiro whispered under his breath to Katsuo. "Or does Ryoma look almost as happy as the senpais did back then? I've never seen his eyes shine like that."

Katsuo just smiled and shrugged a little, glancing at Ryoma's back.

Ryoma, meanwhile, had begun looking at some of the other photographs. He caught sight of one nearby that showed a young Tezuka. He was standing, in the regulars' outfit, near the instantly recognizable figure of Yamato, the man who had been Tezuka's captain during his first year of middle school. He nodded familiarly at that picture, catching the attention of Horio.

"What are you looking at, Echizen?" he asked, coming up alongside the tennis star to get a closer look.

"Oh, I was just looking at the picture of Yamato-senpai and Buchou." Ryoma pointed to that particular frame, putting the tip of his finger against the glass.

"Ah, right," Horio replied, nodding in comprehension. "Yamato-senpai had a strong presence, didn't he? It's hard for me to picture the senpais admiring anybody, but with him, I think it makes sense…"

The normally loquacious Horio suddenly stopped short, as if he was thinking about something. Ryoma looked up, surprised at the abrupt silence, and was even more surprised to find that Horio had an almost wistful expression on his face.

"What is it?" he couldn't help asking.

"Echizen, you know what it's like to really look up to someone, don't you?" Horio asked, very seriously. He glanced significantly at the tennis star.

Ryoma found himself feeling suddenly uncomfortable. Somehow, the faint reminder of the one man that he had admired… Well, it made his heart sting with the memory of what had just happened, that same morning.

…

"_I'm no longer worthy of such a compliment, Echizen."_

…

"I suppose I've known that feeling," Ryoma said finally, almost grudgingly. Horio noticed his friend's reluctant tone, but he said nothing of it.

"You know, a while after we met Yamato-senpai, I started thinking," Horio continued, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "Tezuka-buchou was obviously a great leader. He was strong, in more ways than one, and he knew how to command respect. I always thought he was the perfect captain. But in a way, I think even Tezuka-buchou was limited."

Ryoma thought about this assertion for a moment, with a frown on his face.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked, looking faintly confused.

"I mean, Tezuka-buchou was the kind of leader who commanded his team with absolute authority," Horio explained almost hesitantly. "And our love for him grew out of that authority. But I think there is also strength in a captain that inspires the love of his team first and foremost. That kind of captain gets his authority from that love."

"Are you even talking about Yamato-senpai?" Ryoma inquired. He suddenly got the distinct feeling that Horio was talking about someone else.

At that, Horio laughed a little, smiling to himself.

"I guess I'm not. I was thinking of another captain, to be perfectly honest," he replied frankly. He paused for a moment, thinking again to himself, and Ryoma wondered what that look in his former classmate's eyes could possibly mean.

"I was thinking of _my_ Buchou," Horio said at last, much to Ryoma's surprise.

"Your Buchou?" the tennis star repeated, perplexed.

Horio nodded, lifting a hand toward the glass. Ryoma followed the pointing finger to one of the framed photographs…

His eyes widened in surprise.

There, right in front of his eyes, was a photo of the Seigaku tennis team, one year after Ryoma had left Japan. The faces were all familiar… In fact, Horio and his friends were among them, looking unexpectedly at home in the Seigaku regular uniforms. But it was the two figures in the middle, as much as he should have expected it, that surprised Ryoma the most.

Momoshiro was standing in the center, with Kaidoh standing right next to him.

Even though there was no indication of this on the photograph, aside from the faint sense of responsibility that he could see in their eyes, it was obvious to Ryoma that these two had been the new captain and vice captain of the tennis team.

He didn't know why, but something about this shocked him.

"Momo-senpai was your captain, then?" he managed to ask after a moment, still somewhat taken aback.

"He was," Kachiro replied in place of Horio, coming a little closer to take a look at the photo for himself. "Momochan-buchou was a wonderful captain, especially for all of us. We weren't Wimbledon hopefuls, after all, and we could only do our best. And that was enough for him. He always supported us with that friendly smile of his."

Kachiro paused, his eyes still fixated on the image. Ryoma glanced at the shorter boy and found himself wondering what was going through his mind at that moment.

He didn't have to ask, though, and what his former classmate said next would remain in his mind for years to come.

"I always admired Tezuka-senpai, you know," Kachiro began very slowly. "I really did. I thought that he was amazing. That frown of his was unbreakable, and you always knew that he was serious about everything he did. It made him strong, you know? But…

"But I think that a person with an unbreakable smile must be even stronger. And the only person I ever knew like that… That was Momochan-buchou."

Kachiro smiled too, as if in memory of the captain he admired

"No matter what, Momochan-buchou always smiled. We weren't a very good team, of course… In fact, it was Kaidoh-senpai and him who held our singles lineup together, all by themselves. And even with that, we only made it to the first round of the Kantou Regionals. But the fact that he always supported us, and always encouraged us no matter how badly we lost… That was just Momochan-buchou, and that was what we all loved about him."

Ryoma stared almost vacantly at the glass, listening to Kachiro's words with a strange kind of curiosity. Something about it really did surprise him…

Something about the idea of Momo becoming the captain, becoming the leader of the Seigaku tennis club…

What surprised him the most of all was that he couldn't even imagine it to have been any other way. The more Ryoma thought about it, the more he realized that Momo had always been the only candidate for the job, the only person who could have been worthy of taking that particular position after Tezuka left…

_Of course Momo-senpai was the captain. Who else could have done it?_

_No one else would have been right… somehow…_

"We did love him," Katsuo was saying, more to Kachiro than to Ryoma. "How could we help it? He was always working hard, setting the pace, helping us out… Momochan-buchou was the best captain we could have asked for."

Horio interrupted his friend, with Ryoma still listening to every word.

"It's not just that, though," the self-proclaimed tennis expert noted. "Momochan-buchou was a great captain, of course, but it was more than that. Really, I think I admired him more than anyone else I ever knew."

Ryoma processed this thought for a moment, and then he couldn't help interrupting.

"Why?" he asked very simply, looking straight at Horio.

Horio seemed almost surprised at Ryoma's interest, but he nodded seriously, taking his time to explain.

"Well, it's not just that he was always smiling. I mean, he was, and a smile that never breaks… Like Kachiro said, that shows an incredible amount of inner strength …"

Horio turned back to the glass case, gazing for a moment at the nearby National Championship trophy.

"But the time when I first began to admire Momochan-buchou? That was back in my first year, just before he won that match that got Seigaku the National Championship. I overheard him saying something to himself, over and over, as he walked by. You know what he kept saying? He kept saying 'I can't let him down. No, I can't let him down.' …." (1)

For a moment, Ryoma lost track of Horio's explanation, as he felt his heart stand still with the sudden realization of what those words meant.

_Momo-senpai… the person you were talking about… was it really…?_

But Ryoma didn't finish the thought. Instead, he directed his attention back to Horio, who was still looking inside the glass case, with a faraway look in his eyes.

"… So I think that was when I first really began to admire him. To have that kind of determination, to want above everything else not to disappoint someone that he cared about, and then to have the inner strength it takes to achieve that… That's what I admired the most about him."

With that last sentence, Horio turned back to Ryoma and gave him an understanding smile, meeting the stare of those golden eyes with a blunt kind of honesty.

"I think you know what I mean, don't you, Echizen?" he said.

Ryoma glanced one last time at the photograph, and then he nodded slightly.

"I guess I do know what you mean," he replied at last, almost carefully.

He turned his back on the glass case, facing his former classmates with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

"Well, I should probably get going. Thanks for showing me," he said very calmly. "I think I'll take one more look outside before I go. See you guys later."

He gave the three friends an almost half-hearted wave and started heading down the hallway.

"Ryoma-kun---" Kachiro was about to call out to the tennis star, when Katsuo held up a hand to stop him.

"Let's leave him alone, okay?" he suggested quietly, watching as Ryoma walked down the hall. "He's got something on his mind."

Horio and Kachiro nodded, and the trio turned around and began walking in the opposite direction.

- - - - - - - - -

Sumire Ryuzaki had watched from the window, as Ryoma had been accosted by his former classmates and led inside the building. Inoue had already taken his leave from her office, and the room was dead silent. In fact, it was so quiet that she could hear the faint sound of footsteps, as the few current occupants of the building walked about…

Much to her surprise, one pair of footsteps continued to get louder and louder, until her door slid open to reveal her granddaughter standing in the entrance.

"Good evening, Obachan," she said cordially, greeting the aging coach with a warm smile. "How are you doing today?"

"Oh, it's you, Sakuno," Sumire noted, returning the girl's smile. "I forgot you were coming."

The elderly woman fell silent for a moment, and Sakuno couldn't help wondering what was on her grandmother's mind.

"Is something wrong, Obachan?" she asked, sounding faintly worried.

"Hmm?" Sumire snapped back to attention. "Oh, nothing's wrong, Sakuno. But I did find out something that might surprise you…"

"Ryoma-kun is back in Japan," Sakuno offered amiably, unable to resist a knowing smile. Sumire was decidedly taken aback.

"You already knew?" the older woman said, confused.

Sakuno just nodded. "I ran into him a few days ago. He's been all over Tokyo and nobody's even noticed yet."

"Well, I imagine that can't last long," Sumire noted with a chuckle. "When the press does find out, they'll have a field day. He'll be absolutely swamped with reporters."

Sakuno laughed a little herself. She could only imagine what that would be like… Girls already stared wherever Ryoma went; she knew that much.

"When did _you_ find out, Obachan?" she wondered suddenly.

"He was standing out by the tennis courts, just under ten minutes ago," Sumire explained readily, gesturing toward the window.

Now that did surprise Sakuno.

"He was?" Her hand involuntarily grasped at her handbag, and she couldn't help frowning a little at the news.

_He shouldn't be here… He should be with his friends…_

_Something's wrong._

"Obachan, would you do me a favor?" the teenage girl asked suddenly, looking back at her grandmother.

- - - - - - - - -

"_Hey, Yamato-kun! What are you doing here?"_

_Sumire waved to her old pupil, as he walked onto the court after a normal day of practice. She was surprised to see Yamato, but then again, he was always popping up wherever she least expected him to be._

"_Good evening, Ryuzaki-sensei," Yamato greeted, smiling calmly in his usual way._

_They talked for a while about the current tennis team, and Sumire couldn't help voicing a few of her concerns about the upcoming season. But inevitably, just as it always did, the conversation turned away from the present and back toward the past, to the players that Yamato had always been the most curious about._

"_How is that Echizen Ryoma doing? Isn't this his second year in the pro circuit?" Yamato suddenly inquired._

"_Ah, yes, I believe so," Sumire confirmed with a nod. "He already won his first Wimbledon championship, which I'm sure you heard about."_

"_Indeed," Yamato replied, with a mysterious smile. "Given the hype in the Japanese press, it would be hard to avoid it. He's doing very well then, isn't he?"_

_Even though his words were complimentary, Sumire couldn't help noticing that there was a hint of regret in the former captain's voice._

"_What is it, Yamato-kun?"_

"_I was just thinking of Tezuka-kun and the others," Yamato admitted after a moment. "They must miss him a great deal."_

"_I'm sure they do," Sumire agreed readily. "Although how you already know that is anyone's guess."_

"_It's simple, really," Yamato explained in an almost cryptic tone. "That boy was their pillar, after all."_

"_I thought that was what you called Tezuka," Sumire pointed out, trying to read the expression on the man's face._

"_It was. But then Tezuka-kun chose his own pillar… I guess you could say that was unexpected, to put it mildly. And as it stands now, it was both of them that were holding Seigaku together. So, now that Echizen-kun is gone, I can't help wondering what will become of Tezuka-kun and his friends," Yamato explained calmly, even though the slight frown on his mouth betrayed his concern._

"_What will become of them?" Sumire repeated, with a touch of humor in her voice. "I'm sure they'll be fine, even if they do miss him."_

"_Perhaps you're right, Ryuzaki-sensei," Yamato agreed readily enough, although the worry did not vanish from his expression. "But no matter how you look at it, this was not what was supposed to happen."_

"_Why? What's the problem with it?" Sumire inquired, decidedly confused._

"_Well, there was always a risk," the former captain began. "After all, to become a pillar is to take on a certain responsibility for those you are meant to support. And there is always the possibility that a pillar, something meant to become those individuals' greatest strength, could also become their greatest weakness."_

_Yamato exhaled slightly, shaking his head._

"_If one of the pillars should disappear, the other one might very well break. And if the pillar breaks, the rest of them might break right along with it."_

…

Ryoma was about to exit the building when he turned and looked back down the hallway. His former classmates were already gone, but strangely enough, something in him didn't want to leave yet.

_Why? It's not like I have any unfinished business here…_

"You're leaving already?" a very familiar voice said behind him, jolting Ryoma out of his train of thought.

He turned to see his former tennis coach, standing with her hands on her hips and looking almost amused.

"Ryuzaki-sensei!" Ryoma exclaimed, more as a consequence of being startled than anything else.

"Yes, it's me, you good-for-nothing," and the old lady affectionately pinched his cheek, forcing Ryoma to endure the indignity of the gesture as gracefully as he could. "You certainly took your time in coming back, didn't you?"

"Ryuzaki-sensei, what are you doing here?" Ryoma couldn't help asking.

"I was trying to arrange the brackets for the intramural match, no thanks to all the usual interruptions," Sumire explained briefly, shaking her head. "And then, to top it off, you show up completely out of the blue! I'll never get any work done around here."

Sumire shook her head one last time, almost incredulously. But then her eyes grew serious, and Ryoma couldn't help wondering at the sudden change.

"What is it, Ryuzaki-sensei?" he wondered aloud.

"I have something to show you, Ryoma," she said suddenly, much to the tennis star's surprise. "I was asked to give it to you, a very long time ago. So follow me."

Before long, Ryoma found himself once again standing in front of the glass trophy case in the hallway. He couldn't help wondering what in the world the aging tennis coach could have to give him. But before he could even ask, she had already taken out her keys and began unlocking the glass door.

Once the case was open, the old lady reached inside of the National Championship trophy and pulled something out of the cup. Ryoma watched, bewildered, as she took two similar objects from two other trophies, and then she locked the case again and handed him all three.

They were carefully folded pieces of paper.

Ryoma looked at them, and then back up at his former coach. At a nod from her, he began to open the first one, the one from the National Championship trophy.

This was what it said…

_Echizen-_

_This trophy is for you. Even though you weren't able to come with us to the Nationals, you were the inspiration behind our victory. Believe me when I say that you were in our hearts the entire time, and that we will never forget what you did for us._

_I hope we didn't disappoint you, Echizen. I know that if I ever gave you a reason to be disappointed in me, it would be my greatest regret, and I am sure that the others feel the same._

_I am sorry that I cannot physically give you this trophy, since it now belongs to the school. But rest assured that the team has dedicated the cup to you, along with the victory that brought it to rest in Seigaku's halls._

_We miss you, Echizen. We are very proud of you, but we will always miss you. For my part, I hope to follow you someday, but if I cannot, press on in your quest and don't waver. And never forget that eight friends in Japan will always be cheering your every victory, no matter how far away you are._

_- Tezuka_

Ryoma swallowed hard, trying to choke back the tears that were starting to come to his eyes. The words were sentimental, to say the least, but even those words by themselves probably wouldn't have been enough to affect him. But with the knowledge of what had happened after Tezuka had written this letter, the eloquent words were starting to tear at his heart.

Taking a deep breath, he unfolded the next piece of paper, and he began to read…

_Echizen-_

_I don't know where you are right now, or if you'll ever get this letter, but I wanted to write it anyway. I hope someday you'll be able to read it, even if we never see each other again. Who knows? Maybe, years from now, you'll be able to read this and remember an old friend._

_I just wanted to say, this trophy is for you. I know it isn't a National Championship trophy. In fact, it's only a Prefectural Championship trophy… That was as far as we got this year. But still, whatever we were able to accomplish, I want you to know that it was because of you. You are still the inspiration to us that you always were. I'm sure our senpais feel the same way, too. They're doing their best in high school… I wish you could have seen how Tezuka-buchou thrashed his superiors in the intramural matches last week. You would have said they were all "mada mada dane."_

_Actually, I can hear you saying that as I write, imagining your face when you find out that Momo-senpai was the only candidate for tennis club captain this year. Well, I'm definitely no Tezuka-buchou, but I think I can say that I don't have any regrets either._

_Well, to be honest, I do have one regret. There was something I always wanted to say to you, but I never did… Maybe someday, if we meet again, I'll finally find the words to say it. I wonder where we'll all be, when that day finally comes…_

_Because it will come. I know it will. Echizen Ryoma would never break a promise, right? Well, that's what I'll always believe, no matter how many years it takes for you to come back._

_In the meantime, it looks like it must be really boring for you in the pro circuit. Gosh, Echizen, don't you think crushing an old man like Andre Agassi was a bit excessive? Haha, well, don't ever stop winning, okay? And always know that we're all rooting for you, and that when you stand on top of the world, no one will be prouder of you than your old friend…_

_-Momo_

Ryoma couldn't help smiling as he read it. The letter was just so, well, _Momo-senpai_. Still, he found himself wondering what it was that his friend had wanted to tell him. He couldn't recall Momo saying anything particularly special to him, now that he'd come back…

With a renewed sense of curiosity, Ryoma plunged into the last letter.

_Echizen-_

_Haha, I don't quite know what to say, but I just wanted to let you know that this trophy is for you. It's not as good as the other trophies, especially the one the senpais got for you two years ago, but it's something._

_Of course, I bet when you find out that Captain Horio, with what is now four years and counting of tennis experience, only managed to get his team a City Championship trophy… Well, I'm sure I know exactly what you'll say._

_Still, you should know that Kachiro and Katsuo and I never stopped thinking of you while we were training for tournament season. More than anything else, we just wanted to earn something that would show you how much you inspired us. I guess this will have to do._

_I hope you come back to Japan for a visit soon, Echizen. I think the senpais really miss you. You mean a lot to them, you know. So whatever you do, don't forget that. Oh, and don't lose either, because we're all rooting for you._

_-Horio_

…

When he had finished reading, Ryoma suddenly looked around, only to find himself completely alone. He hadn't even noticed when his former coach left. For a moment, he just stood there, clutching the three letters in his hands. It was as if the crowded memories of the past few days were playing backwards in his head, rewinding faster and faster, until they led him to these letters…

This was their final message to him. But what did these letters really mean? There was something there, in between the lines…

Suddenly, Ryoma knew.

"Mada mada dane," he muttered, as he rubbed his stinging eyes. He refused to cry, even though his heart was begging him to do so.

He knew what these letters really were.

They were a cry for help.

Should he answer it? What good would it do, anyway?

… Should he answer it?

- - - - - - - - -

Ryoma wasn't sure when he finally made up his mind, but once he had, the tennis star slipped the three notes into his pocket and began running down the hall. He barely hesitated when he came to the door, pushing it open with a decisive shove. But as he came out into the open air, he stopped in surprise.

There was Ryuzaki Sakuno, standing right in front of him, as if she'd been expecting him.

"Ryuzaki-san, what are you---?" But Ryoma never finished his question.

The dim glow of twilight was filling the air, as Sakuno just smiled at Ryoma. She reached into her handbag and pulled something out of it, something crisp and clean and white.

As she held it out to him, Ryoma suddenly recognized it.

It was his hat.

The hat that had fallen a thousand feet off of a towering hotel, the hat that should have been mangled and dirty from such a fall, the hat that Ryoma had realized that he would never see again…

That hat was now in his hands.

He looked at Sakuno with all the disbelief he was feeling, gleaming in his golden eyes. And when she spoke, it was like her words echoed inside of him, like the final wish of a fading memory…

"Go to them, Ryoma-kun," she said. "Hurry. And don't look back."

Ryoma nodded. It was a simple gesture, but the two had never been in a deeper understanding than in that moment. In that moment, if they had spoken at all, they could have said a thousand things, things that would have surprised even them, and it could have been the beginning of something entirely different…

But they both knew that something far more important was about to be lost.

And so, Ryoma only nodded. And Sakuno watched, as Echizen Ryoma, the world champion, ran into the embrace of a violet twilight, and her most hopeful wish was fulfilled.

**- end of chapter nineteen -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** (1) I was trying to capture that weird speech habit of Momo's, where he repeats himself and slightly changes the sentence structure the second time. If you've watched the anime, you know what I'm talking about, but I don't have the knowledge of the Japanese language to describe it properly here… In any case, that was what I was going for.

(Btw, yes, I am aware that the chapter title is reminiscent of a Tezuka image song. O.o That actually wasn't my intent, but let's pretend I meant to do that! Lol.)

_A/N: Whew! This chapter took me FOREVER to write, as I'm sure you can imagine! It's definitely the longest chapter in the fic, but I simply couldn't break it up. All of these elements had to be presented together, or I'm pretty sure it would have lost its focus._

_That said, I hope you all don't mind that you got an extra-long chapter this time. And I also hope you enjoyed it. With any luck, it will tide you all over until I can get the next chapter done. I'm hoping it will be finished by the end of the coming weekend, but since I'm dealing with some huge midterm projects, I really can't promise that. At the very least, it will be posted early next week._

_Well, did you like it? There were a lot of small surprises in this one, weren't there? Actually, this chapter is necessary to explain the whole Momo/Kaidoh thing, as well as the use it served in the immediate plot. But you'll see what I mean soon enough! **Let me know what you thought of chapter nineteen!**_

_(Btw… I just wanted to say,** newbi**, you were so right on in your last review that I had to laugh! Are you psychic or something?XD And also, **SJS**, thank you so much for the review. It's a real honor… I am assuming you are the same SJS from the PoT Cracksite? If so, you are my hero, and I just wanted to thank you for reading. XD I am especially honored that you liked the parts with the Golden Pair, because I know you are definitely one of the most die-hard GP fans out there.)_

_Also, **a quick correction for last chapter**… On blood types, only O+ is the rare type, not O-. So you can either assume that both Tezuka and Oishi are O, or simply take it as if the hospital happened to be in short supply of O- on that particular day. Thanks for letting me know! I knew something about it sounded wrong… O.o Many apologies for the error._

_Until next time, everyone! -waves- As always, the FAQ is in my profile, and e-mail me any questions._

_**Coming Up Next:** Ryoma has a sudden burst of inspiration, and he shocks everyone by returning out of the blue to complete something that he inadvertently left unfinished for five years…_


	20. Chapter 20: Crossed My Heart

**Chapter Twenty: Crossed My Heart**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… I just obsess over it. XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twenty! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers will be subjected to my endless PoT-obsessed ramblings. **Lol.

Finally, chapter twenty! At long last... Again, I'm very sorry for the massive delay. I know lots of you were waiting for me to update, and I hated keeping you all waiting! The next one won't be nearly as long a wait, I promise. In the meantime, enjoy! **And let me know what you all think of chapter twenty!**

* * *

_There is something that I never said…_

_But there is only one thing that I really want._

_It is not for my wish to be fulfilled._

_It is only for you to be happy._

…

Tezuka was sitting by the large picture window in the hotel room, staring blankly through the glass at the setting sun. He had a distinct feeling of dread as he stared at the dimming sky. Something inside of him was sure that a plane was going to vanish into that sky any moment, carrying a world champion away from Japan once and for all…

He was sure of it. It was tearing at his heart. And yet…

He squinted, almost wearily, peering up through the window, trying to see the familiar sparkle of the evening star. There it was, alone in the sky, just beyond the reach of the crowded Tokyo cityscape.

He wondered why he couldn't stop looking at it.

"You've been staring out that window for hours," a voice said from behind him, almost nonchalantly.

Tezuka ignored it. Somehow, he just wasn't in the mood for Fuji's razor-sharp powers of perception.

"Tezuka?" came the voice again, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"I heard you," was the former captain's rather gruff response. He kept staring out the window, not even bothering to turn around.

There was a pause, coupled with the faint shuffle of footsteps as Fuji came closer to where he was sitting.

Suddenly, Tezuka felt two slender arms slip around his neck, as one of the small hands gently caressed his forehead.

"Come now, Captain, why are you being so cold?" Fuji murmured, with that soothingly beautiful voice of his. Normally, that voice had the remarkable power to dull Tezuka's train of thought and weaken his stoic front, at least somewhat.

Tonight, however, it simply irked him to no end.

"I'm always cold, remember?" was his curt response.

He could feel Fuji tense up slightly at the remark, and even though he hadn't looked, he could practically feel the tensai's eyes smoldering. Fuji's reply remained calm, however.

"You aren't always like this, Tezuka. Sometimes, you're very much the oppo---"

"Only when I'm dead drunk," Tezuka shot back, resenting the reminder of some of his more uncharacteristic lapses into compliance with the tensai's whims.

Fuji ripped his arms away from Tezuka's neck at that comment, furious.

"Oh, really? So you were dead drunk on the rooftop yesterday? Interesting, that you can get drunk without drinking anything, Captain…"

Now it was Tezuka who was furious. Did Fuji have to rub it in---?

He practically jumped out of the chair to his feet, whirling around to face the tensai's blazing sapphire gaze.

"No, then I was just out of my mind!"

He controlled his voice, trying not to shout, but the anger was still there. He couldn't help it, somehow… He had too much on his mind, too many regrets, and he couldn't help lashing out at the one person that had always been in the background in all of his darkest memories…

Yes, that was right…

Fuji had always been there, staring at him, whispering in the back of his mind, when he'd done the one thing he could never fix.

That one thing, the thing that had driven Ryoma onto a plane to leave Japan forever…

_No!_

"I must be out of my mind. Why else would I be kind to you?" he practically growled, glaring straight at Fuji with all the frustration he was feeling.

For the moment, the tensai seemed to be completely at a loss. Those blue eyes were wide open, though with hurt or with rage, Tezuka couldn't guess.

"Why else?" that beautiful voice finally replied, shaking only slightly with emotion. "Why else? Well, I thought that you were kind because---"

"You liar," Tezuka interrupted, still glaring as sharply as if he could actually pierce right through the tensai. "You knew why. You always meant for this to happen. This was just part of your twisted plan to keep me with you."

"Twisted?" For a moment, Fuji just repeated the word, letting it slip lightly off of his tongue, as though he were tasting it. "Twisted? _Twisted_?"

"You heard me," Tezuka confirmed, the tension still evident in his face.

"Alright then, twisted," Fuji agreed suddenly, with a maniacal glitter in his eyes. "You and I are twisted. So I knew it all along…"

…

"_There's no way I'm staying here for another four years. Do you seriously think I'm just going to watch his back for the rest of my life? No. This time, I'll be the one to walk away. And he'll follow me. You'll see… He will…"_

…

Fuji met Tezuka's stare, sending a shudder down the former captain's spine.

"Yes, I intended for you to follow me, all the way to Europe. That was my plan from the start. But make no mistake; I didn't push you off that platform, Tezuka. You did that yourself."

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. Even though Tezuka had known it all along, that unapologetic declaration was too much, too much to bear…

… The mere thought that he had fallen so easily into Fuji's trap, that he'd actually decided to follow him, that he'd jumped off that platform and shattered himself into a thousand worthless pieces…

For _what_? For this fallen angel?

_NO!_

Tezuka lunged forward in a rage, with every intention of hitting Fuji right across the face, when he was interrupted by the ring of a phone.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other, stunned.

After a moment, Fuji made an imperceptible move to reach toward the phone, but he was stopped with the stern command, "Don't move!"

Tezuka grabbed the receiver and held it to one ear.

"Hello?" he said, as evenly as he could manage.

"_Buchou? It is you, isn't it?"_

Tezuka felt his throat tighten at the sound of that familiar voice.

"Echizen? You're still here? But I thought---"

"_Buchou. I have something to tell you. Are you listening?"_

For a moment, Tezuka was confused. He was suddenly aware that Ryoma sounded very out of breath.

"Echizen, are you alright?" he couldn't help inquiring, as he tried to ignore the way Fuji's blue eyes were fixated upon him.

"_I'm fine. I'm a little tired… I'm calling you from a pay phone."_

"A pay phone?" Tezuka repeated, trying to follow.

"_My cell phone's dead… and I couldn't run anymore… but, Buchou…"_

"What is it, Echizen?" Tezuka asked. He was still very bewildered. He had no idea what in the world was going on…

Suddenly the voice on the other end became very serious. It was a tone of voice that Tezuka had never heard before, but he got the distinct feeling it reminded him of something.

"_Buchou, I'll meet you in an hour. You know where. And you'd better come. I have something to say to you. See you there, Tezuka-buchou."_

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the phone call was over. Tezuka was left staring at the receiver, stunned.

Fuji had only vaguely followed the whole conversation, but he said nothing either.

For a moment, the two just stood there. And then, a determined look came into Tezuka's eyes. He set the receiver back down with a _thud_ and began shuffling through one of his suitcases.

Fuji just watched in silence.

"I'm going out for awhile," Tezuka said, as coldly as he could manage.

"All right," was the surprisingly quiet reply.

Tezuka would have asked about this, but he barely noticed. His heart was racing.

He knew where Echizen wanted to meet him.

… But why?

- - - - - - - - - - -

Oishi was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the blaring television screen. He had no idea what he was watching, but he stared at it anyway. He was vaguely aware of the flashing colors, but they seemed dull and gray in his eyes.

It was as if the world was slowly rewinding, in that familiar silent film of black and white…

_I wonder if Echizen's already on the plane._

"Oishi?" Eiji's voice interrupted his train of thought, sounding much quieter than usual. The former vice captain felt his heart skip a beat, but he almost didn't notice.

"Oishi, do you really think Ochibi is going to leave?" Eiji asked, worried.

For a moment, Oishi didn't answer. Then he sighed.

"I'm sure he will," he said at last. "That's what he said, didn't he?"

Eiji frowned at that. "Well, yeah, but maybe he didn't really mean…"

"Eiji, he's leaving. He left before, didn't he? He didn't hesitate back then, either." Oishi tried to reason through it as calmly as he could.

Eiji bristled at such a cool response, and he was about to say something, when the phone rang.

For a moment, the two just blinked at each other, but then Eiji rushed to answer the phone.

"Hello?" he said hurriedly, after yanking the receiver free and thrusting it up to one ear.

"_Kikumaru-senpai? It's you, right?"_

"Ochibi?" Eiji asked, catching Oishi's attention instantly. "Why are you calling?"

"_Can I talk to Oishi-senpai, please?"_

"To Oishi?" Eiji repeated with a frown. What would Ryoma want to say to Oishi?

"_Yes. Thank you, Kikumaru-senpai."_

Eiji handed the phone to his former doubles partner, with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a very quizzical expression.

Oishi looked back at Eiji for a moment, and then he spoke into the receiver…

"Hello? Is this Echizen?"

"_Yes. It's me, Oishi-senpai."_

"What's going on?" Oishi couldn't help asking, confused. "You haven't left already?"

"_No, I haven't. Oishi-senpai…"_

"What is it, Echizen?" Oishi wondered at the serious tone of the teenager's voice. It was something he'd never heard before, but it reminded him of something that he couldn't quite remember.

"_Oishi-senpai…"_

"_Tell him. Don't wait anymore."_

Just as Oishi's heart stood still, the phone line went dead.

"Echizen?" He barely whispered it, knowing that he'd receive no answer. He knew exactly what the tennis star meant … In fact, he had understood that part all too well…

His heart was racing.

_Tell him._

_TELL him._

_TELL HIM!_

"Oishi? What's wrong? Did he hang up?" said that familiar voice, coming through his consciousness like a flash of color. It made his breath catch in his throat. He felt as though he were standing on the very edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss…

Oishi couldn't help thinking, in that moment when his mind was thinking in fast forward, about how impossible this was. He couldn't tell Eiji. Not after all these years. Not after so many walls had sprung up between them…

Not when every time he had yearned to say those three little words, he had forced himself to choke them back down and let them burn inside his heart.

No, he couldn't do this.

And yet, Echizen had told him…

_TELL HIM!_

Oishi took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

He looked back up at Eiji, who stood by the couch with a very confused expression on his face. After a moment, the redhead put out a hand toward his former partner, presumably to take the phone back.

Instead, Oishi suddenly grabbed that hand with both of his, carelessly letting the phone drop down onto the sofa.

"Oishi---?" Eiji whispered, suddenly overcome with that look in Oishi's eyes. He had never seen that look before, not once, not with anyone…

He had never seen anyone look right at him with so much emotion. Those eyes were screaming a thousand things at him, begging him to see, pleading for him to understand…

Eiji didn't even realize that he had started trembling.

"Eiji…" Oishi's hands gently wrapped around his former partner's fingers, squeezing them with a strangely light pressure. It sent chills right up the redhead's arm.

Much to Eiji's astonishment, Oishi slid off of the couch and kneeled in front of him, not once letting go of his hand. There they were, former partners, and Oishi was on his knees in front of him.

_What…? What is he…?_

"Eiji…" Oishi repeated the name slowly, taking a deep, shaking breath.

Eiji had never known that his name could be spoken with so much feeling. His knees starting going weak at the mere sound of it.

He wanted to say something, but it felt like his voice had been stolen right out of his throat. He tried, but nothing came out, as he stood there looking down into those passionate green eyes.

He was caught. His very life was hanging on the words that Oishi was going to speak, whatever they were, whatever they could be…

…

Up until the very last moment, Oishi was sure that he would never really say it.

He could never say it, not to those perfect blue eyes… If he said it, it would all be over, the running away, the hiding, the pretending, the lying…

_Oh, God…_

_Don't think about it!_

For a split second, Oishi closed his eyes, tightly. The five years crashed upon him like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him away, just like before…

…

"_So I'm lying. But I can't tell him the truth! I can't tell him why I'm really leaving…"_

"… _I HATE YOU!"_

…

"_Tell him. Don't wait anymore."_

"_Oishi-senpai…"_

…

Oishi opened his eyes. He looked back up at Eiji.

"I love you," he said.

…

"_I love you," she said, looking up into Eiji's eyes. She said it so lightly, almost as though the words were as frail as a feather, as though they had already escaped from her heart and were blowing away into the wind._

_Eiji wondered why, every single time his girlfriend said that to him, it felt like nothing at all._

_Why?_

…

Eiji couldn't breathe. He had never felt like this before. It was like he was drowning in the sea, struggling for air, grasping helplessly at the sky…

"Oishi…" He whispered it, so softly that it couldn't possibly be heard.

"Eiji, I love you," Oishi said again, so seriously that Eiji couldn't possibly question it.

There could be no mistake. Here, on his knees, was someone who meant every word that he said. Eiji knew it, because every single word gripped his heart and echoed in his mind.

"I know that I hurt you, Eiji," Oishi continued, trying to keep his voice steady. "Please believe me, that I never wanted… I never wanted to hurt you. But I was afraid. Because I…"

Oishi tightened his grasp on Eiji's hand for a moment.

"I love you so much that I can hardly stand it."

A lump was forming in Eiji's throat, and suddenly, he almost wanted to cry. This man, his former partner, was looking at him with so much sincerity in those emerald eyes…

Why had he never noticed it before?

"Oishi," Eiji murmured again, his eyes filling with tears.

"Eiji?" The former vice captain had noticed the redhead's watering eyes, and the usual tone of concern came into his voice. "Eiji, are you alright?"

Suddenly, for the first time in years, Eiji could see it. He could see Oishi clearly again, in those green eyes.

He could see him. His Oishi.

He had never left, after all. He hadn't died. He hadn't even left, not really… Because here he was, right in front of him, even if he was saying something that Eiji never would have expected …

_Oishi!_

Eiji fell to his knees, thrusting himself forward into his former partner's arms.

"Oishi!" he cried, burying himself in Oishi's shirtfront, much to the shock of the taller man, whose heart practically leapt out of his chest at the sudden gesture.

"Oishi, it _is_ you… You always were…" But the tears were running down Eiji's face now, and he couldn't even finish a sentence. So he repeated the familiar name instead. "Oishi!"

"Eiji," Oishi finally managed, bewildered, as he hooked his arms lightly around Eiji's back. "What are you---?"

"You never really left!" Eiji sobbed, hiding his face in Oishi's chest. "I was always scared that you… I mean, it's just… Oh, Oishi…"

In holding Eiji so closely, the former vice captain forgot to be afraid. He forgot to worry that Eiji would reject him, that he would tell him to go away and never come back. He forgot everything, everything that had passed between them, and he held Eiji close, as tightly as he could.

And in those arms, Eiji could feel the love that he'd always wanted.

"What is it, Eiji?" Oishi asked, very softly.

"Just hold me," Eiji answered, muffled.

So Oishi did.

And for the first time in years, the Golden Pair was whole again.

- - - - - - - - -

_There was something that I missed…_

_I was too close to them to see it._

_There was something that I missed…_

_Is it already too broken to fix?_

…

Echizen Ryoma was already gasping for breath again, but he forced himself to keep running. He wasn't the type to run marathons for personal enjoyment, but he was certainly in shape… And so this feeling of not being able to run fast enough was extremely unfamiliar to him.

But he _needed_ to run faster. He would never get there, if he didn't…

He forced himself to pick up the pace again, as his feet pounded against the sidewalk. He was vaguely aware of the loud clamor of the city around him, but he didn't pay any attention to it. For the moment, he could have cared less what the people of Tokyo thought of this crazy young man who was running at breakneck speed all over the metropolis.

After all, this was something he had to do. Because if he didn't…

Well, he didn't know what would happen if he didn't.

In fact, he had no idea what was going to happen if he did. But he knew that he couldn't turn back now. He couldn't leave, not until…

_Not until I've fixed it._

_I don't care if it's impossible._

As Ryoma bolted through a crosswalk, just barely avoiding the swerving path of particularly aggressive taxi cab, he found himself remembering. He was starting to hear the words of a faded past, echoing inside his mind…

…

"_Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!"_

…

Ryoma took another gasping breath, trying to force oxygen into his lungs. He could still hear his captain speaking those words to him, even though it had been over five years, even though the captain he admired no longer existed.

It was true. That ideal, that perfection that Tezuka had always been… That perfection was gone.

… But _Tezuka_ wasn't gone, after all.

Ryoma could still remember when the only thing he'd wanted was to never let that man down. It had been his goal, the thing that had enabled him to surpass his own limits and become a better tennis player than he'd ever dreamed.

During that year at Seigaku, he had been trying to live up to Tezuka's expectations. He'd tried to become Seigaku's pillar.

But somewhere along the way, he had turned his back on that goal.

Why?

Tezuka had asked Ryoma to become Seigaku's pillar.

Why had he turned his back on them all?

…

"_We miss you, Echizen. We are very proud of you, but we will always miss you."_

…

Why had Ryoma never realized this before? He had chosen to leave, and that choice came with its own consequences.

… Had he really believed that it wouldn't affect them?

No, this was the reason why. This was why Fuji blamed him for everything that had gone wrong. This was why everything had changed so drastically from what he remembered. This was why it seemed like something was missing.

Something was missing.

It was him.

_I don't think I can really help them…_

_But…_

_I won't leave until everything is right again._

_I won't leave._

_Not this time._

Ryoma was running so fast that he didn't even notice when he ran right past two very familiar figures. Instead, he pressed on into the crowd of pedestrians, trying to make the next light before it turned red again.

- - - - - - - - -

Inui and Kaidoh were walking along back to their hotel in complete silence. They had visited Eiji's apartment a few hours earlier, only to find out from the concerned redhead that Ryoma was leaving Japan that very night. Since then, they'd gone out to a restaurant for dinner, but neither had said much for the rest of the evening.

Inui, of course, wasn't really surprised at the news. He had surmised that much since he had talked with Tezuka. He was disappointed, though… He couldn't help thinking of that stray piece of paper that he had surrendered to the wind, hoping that the coin toss would land in their favor…

…

"_As for me, my bet is that he'll stay. What do you think, Tezuka?"_

…

Inui sighed to himself. It wasn't surprising that Ryoma had decided to disappear, but even so, it was vaguely unsettling. Part of Inui couldn't help feeling that history was repeating itself, just like that time that Ryoma had left Japan five years ago…

_Of course, that's illogical._

_History doesn't repeat itself. History is simply a progression of events over time, and any similarities in the events are only the result of probability…_

Nevertheless, Inui had the distinct feeling that the events of the past five years were rewinding, slowly and painfully, bringing everything to a climax. And when they reached that climax, there was nothing waiting for them except another fall…

_Even after all this time, I can't help wondering…_

_When you leave, Echizen, what will be in store for us now?_

…

Inui sighed again, a bit louder this time, and it caught Kaidoh's attention.

"What is it, senpai?" the snakelike teenager asked, his sharp eyes glancing at his tall roommate.

Inui looked down at Kaidoh for a moment without answering, and then he smiled slightly.

"Sorry about that, Kaidoh," he answered as lightly as he could. "It's nothing, really. I was just thinking…"

Suddenly, Inui and Kaidoh noticed a very familiar figure dash right by them, bolting right through a crowd of pedestrians as he flew down the sidewalk.

"Echizen?" Inui said in disbelief, as they both turned their heads to watch the tennis star run as fast as lightning toward the street corner.

"Echizen!" Kaidoh called out gruffly, as his feet started sprinting toward the boy.

"Kaidoh, what are you---" Inui attempted to follow after him, but he had some difficulty making his way through the crowd, even though he could clearly see Kaidoh starting to catch up to Ryoma.

He could also see the light change as Ryoma darted out into the crosswalk, just barely making it to the other side before traffic began pouring into the street. Kaidoh, on the other hand, had just barely left the curb, and the cars were already headed straight for him.

"Kaidoh!" Inui yelled, eyes wide behind his clouded lenses as he struggled to break through the unforgiving mass of people.

Much to both Kaidoh and Inui's confusion, someone appeared out of nowhere and shoved Kaidoh back onto the sidewalk. During the scuffle, Kaidoh's bandana flew off his head and fell into the street. Meanwhile, the person hurled himself right on top of him, as a car swerved to one side and just barely avoided them both.

Inui shoved his way through the swarm and ran toward the curb, only to find Kaidoh lying on the sidewalk, with Momo right on top of him.

"Momoshiro! What are you doing here?" Inui stammered, completely bewildered and feeling like he was quite capable of having a heart attack at any second.

Kaidoh looked equally astonished. He didn't even try to shove Momo off of him, which he might have done under normal circumstances. Momo, on the other hand, rose to his feet and started brushing himself off almost instantly.

He also ignored Inui's question, as he shot a glare at Kaidoh, who was still lying on the pavement.

"Are you insane, Viper? Do you _want_ to get yourself killed? Idiot."

Kaidoh sat up, completely stunned. For a moment, he couldn't even find a single word to say. Suddenly, he bristled at the insult.

"What do you mean, 'idiot'? Echizen was over there!"

Momo just rolled his violet eyes.

"Of course he was over there, you moron. But you can't run out onto the street when the light is red. Stupid."

Kaidoh didn't know whether he was angry or just confused, but he got to his feet and hissed at his former teammate anyway.

"Who are you calling stupid? Echizen was supposed to leave tonight, and instead he's running around Tokyo. How thick is your skull, or do you even care?"

Momo frowned and crossed his arms, glaring at his rival.

"Of course I care, you freak. But I already know where he's going."

Both Inui and Kaidoh did a double take at that statement.

"What do you mean, you already know?" growled Kaidoh, clenching his hands in frustration.

"I mean, I already know, okay? It's none of your business," Momo shot back, glancing quickly across the street before turning back to his angry former teammate.

Kaidoh's eyes were blazing with fury, but he controlled it as best as he could. His reply, though, was filled with subdued rage.

"None of my business, huh? So when will it be my business, you idiot?"

This question caught Momo's attention, and he blinked in surprise.

"What do you mean by that, Viper?" he said, frowning. "If you have something to say to me, then just say it already. It's not like you haven't been ignoring me for three years straight…"

"I've been ignoring you?" Kaidoh repeated, glaring. "Sounds like you've forgotten who decided to throw his ambition away for some half-rate part time job and a pointless college degree…"

"SHUT UP!" Momo yelled, right in Kaidoh's face. It was loud enough to stun his rival, and cause him to take a step backward in something like fear.

"You know nothing, Viper," Momo added, his voice lowering to a growl. "Just because I can't be like _you_… Just because there isn't any point to _that_ anymore…"

He stopped, long before he could clarify what he meant, and then took a deep breath and released it. Averting his gaze from Kaidoh, Momo turned back toward the crosswalk, where the light had just turned green.

"It's not like I wanted this. But it's what I chose anyway."

Momo knelt, reaching into the street to pick up a stray object. He turned briefly and thrust it into Kaidoh's hand, returning the slightly dusty bandana to its owner.

"Anyway, what do you care?" he mumbled. But he never gave Kaidoh a chance to answer. Before Kaidoh or Inui could even react, he darted across the street and back onto the sidewalk on the opposite end.

Just like that, he was gone.

"Well, that was strange," Inui remarked, suddenly recalling his existence to Kaidoh's mind.

"No kidding," Kaidoh muttered, still glaring at the crosswalk. His hand tightened around the fabric in his hand.

"He's following Echizen, isn't he?" Inui observed calmly, crossing his arms. "I wonder how long he's been tailing him like that."

Kaidoh hissed, still tense.

"God knows. He's such an idiot…"

Inui let the ensuing silence linger for a moment, and then he smiled, very slightly.

"An idiot who, it appears, has more than a few people who worry about him." If Kaidoh could have seen his senpai's eyes, he would have realized that Inui was looking at him very knowingly.

"Not that he ever notices," was Kaidoh's reluctant reply, as he avoided Inui's gaze.

"Are you still angry at him for not following you?" Inui asked, somewhat cryptically.

"You could say that," Kaidoh answered finally. He glanced across the street again, trying to see if he could still pick out the retreating figure of his rival among the bustling crowd. But Momo had already disappeared from sight.

"He's such an idiot. How long is he going to stay in Echizen's shadow, anyway?"

And at Kaidoh's annoyed comment, Inui couldn't help but shake his head.

"I'm sure I don't know. That Momoshiro…"

They both looked down the street, and thought of a boy dashing down the sidewalk, being covertly followed by a young man they knew very well.

- - - - - - - - - - -

_RING! RING!_

Tomoka blinked in surprise, getting up from her desk to answer the phone. She glanced at the display screen, checking the caller ID before answering.

_Huh? What's she doing, calling at this time of night?_

Tomoka lifted the receiver to one ear, clicking the call button before she started speaking. "Hello?"

"_Hello, is this Tomo-chan?"_

"Yes, it's me. Why are you calling so late, Sakuno?" she couldn't help asking, as she glanced at the clock.

"_I saw Ryoma-kun today."_ The voice on the other end sounded a bit hesitant.

"You did?" Tomoka was definitely surprised. Of course, she figured that Ryoma was still in Japan, but she wouldn't have expected that Sakuno would have gone to see him by herself.

"_I did. You know, Tomo-chan… I think… I think something's going to happen."_

Tomoka frowned at that. "What do you mean, Sakuno?"

"_Ryoma-kun was very upset. I think he was going to leave Japan tonight."_

"What?" Tomoka gripped the phone tightly in shock. "He's leaving? Without even saying goodbye to all of us?"

"_I don't know. I don't think he's leaving anymore. I think… I think something is happening."_

"Darn it, Sakuno, just spit it out already! What are you _talking_ about?" Tomoka exclaimed in frustration, one hand on her hip.

"_It's something about his friends. You remember what we used to talk about… about the senpais, especially last year…"_

Tomoka sighed at that. "Yes, I remember. So Ryoma-sama probably found out about all those things that we never understood, right?"

"_I think so. I think he's going to confront them about it. I… I told him to go to them. I hope it was the right thing to do…"_

"Sakuno, if it's you, it was the right thing to do," Tomoka interrupted, trying to reassure her friend. "Really, I don't know how you can always be so instinctive about these things. You were right on the money with Horio and me, and then you talked to Momoshiro-senpai that one time… I don't know WHAT went on between the two of you, but you always know exactly what to say, at least when you're brave enough to say it."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and Tomoka could practically feel her friend smiling.

"_Well, thank you, Tomo-chan. I'm not sure if that's completely true, but…"_

"Of course it's true, you silly girl!" Tomoka interrupted again, in a scolding tone. "Really, I don't know why you aren't more confident of yourself. You should tell Ryoma-sama how you feel about him, even if it has been way too lo---"

"_No. I couldn't do that, Tomo-chan."_

Sakuno's voice was suddenly insistent, and Tomoka couldn't help rolling her eyes.

"Why not? You're a pretty girl, a great friend, and you understand Ryoma-sama, which is more than anyone else can say---"

"_That's not true. And that's why I could never tell him."_

The voice was so serious that it made Tomoka pause and rethink her words.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked finally.

"_There's someone else who really understands Ryoma-kun, and who cares about him more than I ever could. I… I'm just not right for him. And so I would never let my feelings get in his way."_

Tomoka was silent in the ensuing pause. She didn't know what to say. The tone of Sakuno's voice was almost unfamiliar to her; it was speaking with so much conviction. Before she knew it, Sakuno continued.

"_I can't get in Ryoma-kun's way. He's up in the sky; he's over my head. And so… all I can do is pray that someone else will be able to fly up to where he is."_

Tomoka waited for her friend to finish, and then she sighed. But there was a smile on her lips.

"You're always like that, Sakuno. Completely selfless… And so abstract that I can't understand a word you're saying," she added with a laugh.

"But maybe you're right," she admitted. "In any case, you always have a better grasp of these things than I do."

Tomoka glanced toward her bedroom window, noticing how the sky was pitch black outside. It looked strangely cold, even though she knew it was summertime.

"Well, I hope Ryoma-sama doesn't run away. It would be too sad if he never said goodbye."

**-end of chapter twenty-**

* * *

_A/N: I'm so sorry! This chapter is several days late. I had a TON of stuff in my schedule, and I really couldn't find any way around it. And to top it off, this was one of the most difficult chapters to write so far. Arrggghh… I'm really sorry about the wait, everyone! I promise that the next one will get done much more quickly. (Especially because, unlike this chapter, I already have a clear outline for the next one.) I promise that I'll be posting chapter twenty-one asap!_

_In the meantime, I hope everyone is still enjoying the story. I am so blown away by the kind reviews I've been getting… Many, many thanks to you all! I really wish I could respond to each of you individually and thank you for reading._

_Well, I need to get cracking on the next chapter, so until next time, everyone! And I hope you enjoyed it. **Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty!**_

_By the way… we're nearing the end, believe it or not! Get ready for some of the most eventful chapters, coming up soon, along with several key explanations that should answer a bunch of your questions. (Although I think I can say that this chapter was pretty eventful too…)_

_See you guys very soon! -waves-_

_**Coming Up Next:** An epic confrontation leads to a realization on the part of Tezuka, a sacrifice on the part of Ryoma, and a conversation between Fuji and Momo that finally reveals the latter's hidden motives…_


	21. Chapter 21: Awakened

**Chapter Twenty-One: Awakened**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… It's just the love of my life. XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twenty-one! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers will be subjected to my endless PoT-obsessed ramblings. **Lol.

Here it is! This is a pretty pivotal chapter, if I do say so myself, and it should give everyone an idea of the ending that is to come. This one is dedicated to all my faithful readers, who continue to amaze me with the fact that they're still reading such an epic. O.O Thank you so much, everyone! I hope you enjoy it. **And let me know what you all think of chapter twenty-one!**

* * *

_Tonight, I finally understand. Tonight, I realized for the first time…_

_I let you down._

_I stood with my back to you, as you fell into despair._

_I won't let it happen again._

…

"_I'll be waiting for you at three o'clock, three days from now. Come alone."_

_Ryoma stood in the golden light of a burning sunset, holding a tennis ball in his hand. He stood there, watching, as the captain of Seigaku vanished from his sight. He stood there, with that bright yellow ball in his hand, and for the first time in his life, he was completely blown away._

_Here was someone who was so powerful, that even though he had never faced him on a tennis court, Ryoma could already feel the strength emanating from that man's silent form._

_It was making his heart beat faster and faster..._

_He hadn't known then that the impending encounter between them would result in a chain of events that would change Ryoma's world forever. He hadn't known that it would be this man, this stunning presence, who would ignite Ryoma's ambition and turn him into a legend._

_He hadn't known then._

_But even so, the anticipation of the match between them had captivated him._

_And Echizen Ryoma had never known what it was to have his heart captured, however briefly it may have been, by another person. Not ever._

_It was a feeling that he never forgot._

…

Tezuka was walking, alone, on his way to the courts at Haruno University. This was the place that Ryoma wanted to meet him. That much, he knew for certain. But what Ryoma could have to say to him, he had not the slightest idea.

It wasn't like him to spend his time trying to anticipate the actions of another. That was an activity reserved for someone like Inui. No, he took things as they came to him, and not a moment sooner. Nevertheless, he now had the distinctly unpleasant feeling of stumbling forward in the dark, wondering when he would trip over something unseen and go crashing to the ground.

He had no idea what Ryoma could have to say.

But something in him was afraid.

He did have something to fear; he knew that much. There had been a time when he had been able to say that he harbored no regrets. That time had passed.

That time had been replaced with the scream of a train, covered in blood, and a beautiful voice that whispered poison into his ear.

It was a nightmare. He was living in a nightmare, but he had lost the ability to wake up again.

Slowly, Tezuka glanced both ways before making his way across the street. His surroundings were growing increasingly familiar with every passing minute. It had been quite some time since he had visited the area, but he remembered it well. Even in the days before he had known Ryoma, he had come here often to practice by himself.

In the days before Ryoma…

In a strange way, Tezuka could hardly recall his life before the talented boy had appeared at Seigaku. He knew such a time existed, of course, and he had the remnants of his memories from those years… But he couldn't feel them. They felt like nothing, compared to the moment when that shining star had appeared on Seigaku's courts, that star who had gone on to conquer the world and shatter the expectations of every last tennis enthusiast on the face of the earth.

Tezuka wasn't a vain person. He wasn't one to flatter himself. He gave himself only the credit he deserved, and not a shred more.

But in a way, when he had first set eyes on Echizen Ryoma, he had felt a shadow fall across his own fate. At the time, he hadn't been able to put a finger on it, that distinctly ominous feeling of pending danger. But in retrospect, when Echizen had appeared, it had been the death knell for his own tennis career.

Maybe it had been set in the stars, long before Ryoma had appeared, long before Tezuka had realized that this prince of tennis was Japan's hope for tennis fame, and not him.

Maybe so. But his choice, in regard to Ryoma, had undoubtedly spelled his own destruction.

Tezuka's choice to make Ryoma the new candidate for Seigaku's pillar had slowly minimized his own importance to his fellow teammates. His choice had also created a monstrosity whose tennis ability was so great that only the pro circuit could contain it. This talented boy had vanished in less than a year. At the time, Tezuka had foolishly resolved to make up the difference himself, to fill the new void in their lives with his own force of will. His arm had healed; he was stronger… Wasn't that enough for them all?

It had not been enough.

It had not been enough when Oishi had unexpectedly developed new feelings for his doubles partner. That alone had caused a rift in the Golden Pair that had never healed.

It had not been enough when Momo had completely failed to make the Regulars, all three years in high school, or when his apathy about this fact had driven Kaidoh to ignore him completely, the chilling result of some rift that neither would explain.

It had not been enough when Fuji had started suffering at home, when the fragile threads holding his mind together had begun to snap, one by one, until he was tormenting the girl that Taka had secretly liked since their freshman year in high school.

It had not been enough when this torment had driven Taka to hit Fuji right across the face in a rage, right in front of Hoshina Kimiko, and right in front of Tezuka.

And it had certainly not been enough when, slowly, painfully, Tezuka had discovered that he himself was in Fuji's cruel grasp, and that when the tensai had shoved him away, he had been possessed with the uncontrollable desire to fling himself in front of that screaming train.

No, Tezuka's will had certainly not been enough to hold them all together.

And now, his arm, like the bonds between them all, would never heal.

… Would they?

Tezuka took a deep breath, and tried to shake the shadowed thoughts from his mind. Either way, it was too late. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter anymore.

Besides, he had arrived.

Clumsily, he fumbled at the metal latch, pushing the gate open as it let out a mournful creaking sound. It was already long past twilight; the darkness surrounding the area was broken only by the fluorescent court lights, one of which was flickering ominously in the corner of Tezuka's peripheral vision.

He knew before he even looked, though, that _he_ was already there.

That shining star.

Echizen Ryoma.

The young man was standing next to the net, pulling something out of his large tennis bag. At the sound of the creaking gate, though, Ryoma glanced in Tezuka's direction. Something in those golden eyes cut Tezuka to the heart.

"You're here," Ryoma said simply.

For a moment, Tezuka felt as though he had turned to stone, that he couldn't possibly move. But he forced himself to nod in reply, and started to walk toward where the tennis pro was standing.

In that instant, Tezuka felt as though he was crossing an entire ocean, so slow did the passage of time feel to him.

… What was that look in those golden eyes? He could have sworn that he'd seen it before, that he'd felt it before… Where?

With every step he took toward the young man, Tezuka felt as though he was shrinking into nothing. By the time he was standing in front of Ryoma, he felt as though the boy may as well have been towering somewhere above his head.

There was a painful moment, when they simply stood there, the two pillars, each staring at what the other had become.

And then Ryoma reached into his bag again, and flung something at Tezuka. On impulse, Tezuka caught it with his right hand.

It was a tennis racquet.

"I have something to say to you, Buchou," Ryoma said, in that voice that made Tezuka's heart falter inside his chest.

"I have something to say to you, but I won't say it…"

Those golden eyes narrowed, and they glittered with something unrecognizable.

"I won't say it until I'm finished with you."

Tezuka's own eyes widened in astonishment. He wanted to ask what in the world Ryoma meant, what the boy could possibly intend to do, by throwing a racquet into his right hand and demanding a duel against someone who couldn't even play the sport anymore.

But he couldn't speak. Ryoma, on the other hand, pointed with his own racquet toward one end of the court.

"Get on the court, Tezuka-buchou."

Without another word, he began walking in the opposite direction, slipping two tennis balls into his pocket and fingering the third in his left hand.

In a daze, Tezuka felt his legs carrying him to the baseline on his end of the court. He turned toward the net, awkwardly grasping the racquet in his right hand, trying to correct his clumsy grip… But he couldn't concentrate on the task at all. In fact, he couldn't see a thing, except for the radiant star on the other side of the court, the star glowing with a golden light.

What happened next was nothing short of perfection, in calculated, steady motion.

Ryoma, the world champion, bent his knees and threw the ball into the air, a flawless toss. Tezuka then watched as the boy's legs straightened again, releasing the tension in his slender muscles upward, in a smooth motion that moved steadily up his body and culminated into the exact moment when that racquet hit the ball. Ryoma's body flung itself toward the net, as that limber wrist thrust forward and spun the ball into his infamous twist serve.

It was art in motion, and it took Tezuka's breath away. The boy's remarkable serve had been polished into an ideal that only a pro could hope to achieve. Despite his years of tennis experience, Tezuka couldn't see a single flaw in it.

He was so awed that he only realized a full ten seconds later that he should have at least attempted to hit the ball.

In that instant, he fully realized how useless this was. He couldn't compete against this barely human phenomenon. He couldn't even have faced the twelve year old boy in his present condition, but this tennis superstar was so far above him that he wished he could just disappear.

"What are you doing, Buchou?" came the accusing voice through Tezuka's agonized thought process.

"Don't just stand there!" Ryoma added, more painfully this time, as he projected his voice across the court. He had already started walking to the other side, and Tezuka scrambled to get into position.

"Don't you dare just stand there!" the boy repeated, yelling it as he bent his knees again.

As though it had been a replay, that perfect serve appeared again, darting straight into the service box and rocketing easily past Tezuka's outstretched racquet.

"Return it, Buchou! Hit it back!"

"Don't stand there!"

"HIT IT!"

Slowly, Tezuka started to feel as though Ryoma's voice was no longer the voice of his opponent across the court. It was the voice that was playing inside his head, the voice that was starting to burn a hole in his heart, as Tezuka realized for himself just how pathetic his game had become in the space of a year.

It felt as though that voice was shaking him, repeatedly, screaming in his ear and cracking the ice that had formed around his ambition the moment that he had decided to jump to his fate.

Suddenly, he was no longer ashamed. He was furious. At himself.

Over and over, Ryoma served the ball to Tezuka without stopping. The boy was relentless, putting every drop of his power into each shot. His serves were like rockets, and half of the time Tezuka couldn't even see the ball before it whizzed by his head.

Every single time, though, Tezuka forced himself to swing. It was a futile effort, he knew. His timing was painfully off, and he could tell that his follow through was weak, even though he hadn't made contact with the ball yet. But as his disgust with himself grew, slowly his arm began to recall the motion and refine the movement. He had never been as good with his right arm as with his left, but he had used it before, and it was coming back to him, if only slightly.

But even if his arm was starting to move properly again, there was no hope of him returning that monstrous serve. No, for that, he would have to speed up his swing, and regain the sense of preemptive timing that he had lost…

"What are you doing, Buchou? Hit the ball! HIT IT!"

Tezuka's amber eyes widened, and for a moment, his mind cleared. His frustration forced itself into a sharp, crisp arm motion, and his racquet sliced through the air.

He had returned the twist serve.

Just like that, with the precision of a superhuman machine, Ryoma took two steps to his left and hit a flawless backhand to the opposite end of the court. Again, Tezuka was stunned at the polish of the move. He had seen Ryoma play on television, of course. But the television didn't do such unfathomable skill justice.

Tezuka had seen a recording of Echizen Nanjiroh play. This boy was not Echizen Nanjiroh.

No, this shining star, this Echizen Ryoma, was a dream come true.

But just as before, the star would not allow Tezuka to admire its glorified light. Again, Ryoma turned the former captain's focus inward, forcing himself to face his own imperfection.

"That isn't Tezuka-buchou's return! Show me Tezuka-buchou's return!" Ryoma shouted across the court, his hurt voice echoing in the empty space around them.

"SHOW ME!"

Again, Tezuka found himself staring a serve in the face, moving without thinking as he swung at the ball. He returned it once more, much to his own surprise, only to be confronted with another impossibly fast groundstroke that he couldn't reach.

And then, it happened again. And again. And _again_…

Slowly, in that frenzy of repetition, where Tezuka scrambled after each and every flawless shot, his stroke grew steadier and his footwork more responsive. It was not his old game, not by a long shot. But he could feel the fire starting to burn in his eyes, a reflection of his resolve. It came as nothing but a surprise to him. It had been… He didn't know how long it had been since he had felt this way.

A year? Two years? More? … No, maybe it had already been five years… Maybe it was only Ryoma's return to Japan that had brought this fire back into his eyes.

His heart was throbbing, that painful beating echoing in his ears.

…

As for Ryoma…

Ryoma couldn't believe how far Tezuka had fallen. In place of Tezuka's astonishment at Ryoma's perfection, Ryoma had nothing now except the most pained disappointment in Tezuka's current condition. It was only natural, he knew. To stop playing tennis for over a year would throw off anyone's game…

But to make matters worse, when that person was the only being that Ryoma had ever idolized, the one person that he had perhaps given too much credit…

Ryoma's heart was shattered.

_I can't do this._

_I can't do anything for him… It's too late… But…_

_I can't leave him like this!_

"Buchou! Don't stop!" he yelled, serving the ball again, just as fast as the first time. "Don't you DARE stop!"

He swung through his forehand with all the anguish he was feeling.

"I won't stop, Buchou!" he added, his eyes piercing through the distant figure of Tezuka, who was trying to catch his breath. "I won't stop until I'm finished!"

He served the ball again, watching as Tezuka swung through on the return and sent the ball toward the middle of the court.

Ryoma caught up to the return and easily hit a solid winning shot into the far corner.

"_You_ never stopped, Buchou! Don't you remember?" he demanded, without even waiting for a reply. He returned to the baseline, only to serve again for the thousandth time.

"You never gave up! You had me on my KNEES, Buchou! You never stopped for me!"

…

_Ryoma was on his knees before that towering figure, staring in astonishment at the captain of Seigaku. He had been struck speechless by the man's skill on the court, and he was now gazing up at the man that he knew he would admire for the rest of his life._

"_Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!"_

_Ryoma looked into that gleaming amber gaze, and even though he didn't understand the cryptic command, he could feel himself instantly submitting to the persuasion of those blazing eyes._

…

"Don't stop, Buchou!" Ryoma cried, trying to suppress the pain in his voice.

And again, and again, Ryoma served the ball, over and over to a desperate Tezuka, who flung himself toward each shot with reckless abandon. They never noticed that two figures had appeared in the shadows under the overpass, and were watching their every move.

- - - - - - - - -

_It was a particularly cold, dreary day. Fuji could feel the gloomy weather pressing in on his mood, and the ever-present desire to disappear into his bedroom for another week was starting to grow difficult to ignore. He was walking home from school, but he never paid attention to where he was going, not anymore. It was a new habit that often got him lost. On one night a few months earlier, he had found himself in a place that he didn't recognize at all, with a dead cell phone and less than twenty yen in pocket change._

_That particular time, he had curled up behind a dumpster, trying to hide from the dark night and the unseen shadows that lurked within it. When morning had come around, he had walked and walked until he finally found his way back to school. He had shown up just barely in time for first period, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair mussed and unruly._

_He still remembered the way Tezuka had looked at him with concern that day, the way his deep voice had asked him if he was alright. The thought of it still made his heart tremble._

_Fuji took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest as he walked down the snow-lined sidewalk. Suddenly, he stopped right in his tracks._

_There, looking in a store window, was Tezuka._

_Fuji felt almost as though he were flying, as he came up alongside his former captain. But before he could call out a single word of greeting, he noticed what Tezuka was looking at._

_It was a television._

_On that television was a tennis court, and on that tennis court was a boy. And that boy was Echizen Ryoma._

_In that moment, looking at Tezuka's distant expression as he watched that tiny figure smash the ball, Fuji knew._

_Tezuka was going to follow Ryoma._

_He was going to disappear into the unreachable world of the pro circuit, and he was going to join Ryoma at the top of the world. And he was going to forget about everything else, as he followed that dream to the ends of the earth. He was going to think of nothing but tennis for the rest of his life…_

_And Fuji would never see him again._

_Suddenly, Fuji knew something else. He was never going to let that happen._

_He wasn't going to let Tezuka reach for that dream._

_Not if he could help it._

…

Fuji watched, blue eyes open and staring vacantly in front of him, as Tezuka struggled on the tennis court, trying to keep up with Ryoma's frantic pace. The tensai's emotions were so jumbled together that he didn't know what he was feeling, watching Tezuka scrambling after the powerful shots with nothing short of desperation. He didn't regret this; this was what Fuji had always intended to happen…

… But something in him hurt, seeing what Seigaku's captain had become.

Seeing what Tezuka had become, because of him.

He would have sighed, however slightly, but his breath caught in his throat at the sudden sound of footsteps behind him.

He turned to see that Momo had appeared next to him, staring at the court with his dark purple eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Fuji demanded, almost irritated.

Momo shrugged slightly, and the tensai was suddenly very aware that he couldn't read the expression on the younger man's face.

"I followed Echizen here," was the seemingly blunt reply.

Fuji processed this for a moment, but he couldn't quite decipher the hidden meaning in that response.

"I see," was all he said, shutting his eyes firmly. He wasn't going to let Momo see the tinge of guilt in his face, not if he could help it.

"You know, I could ask the same of you," Momo said suddenly, almost lightly. "What are you doing here, Fuji-senpai?"

"I followed Tezuka here," was Fuji's slightly sarcastic retort. He turned back to the court, watching as Tezuka lunged toward an aggressive groundstroke, stumbling and falling to one knee.

"I'm making sure Echizen doesn't try anything," Fuji added bitterly, frowning at the sight.

He didn't notice Momo glance sideways at him for a moment, very knowingly.

"Oh, I see," came the casual reply.

"Why are you here?" Fuji turned back to his former teammate, suddenly very suspicious of the newcomer's unexplained appearance.

"I'm making sure Echizen doesn't stop," replied Momo, staring right at the tensai. Fuji's eyes flew open in surprise at the conviction in that voice.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, eyebrows furrowing in a blend of confusion and vexation.

For a moment, Momo said nothing, as he looked away to watch Echizen toss the ball and follow through with his twist serve yet again.

"It was just time for it, that's all," he said at last, eyes still fixated on the court.

Suddenly, Fuji was filled with a distinct sensation of dread. Something in him didn't like the suggestive tone in the younger man's voice. He didn't know what it meant, but he didn't like it at all.

"What are you talking about, Momo?" he hissed, glaring daggers at the younger man.

Momo was silent again, but he slowly brought his hand upward. Much to Fuji's confusion, he held up all five fingers. One by one, he began pulling down each of them, counting off as he began listing something aloud.

"Working it backwards, it should go something like this… Taka-san got engaged to Hoshina-san. I moved in with Eiji-senpai. Viper went to Kyushu to room with Inui-senpai. Tezuka-buchou left for Germany. You and Oishi-senpai started school in Europe."

Fuji stared in absolute bewilderment as he watched each finger go down. Momo glanced sideways at the tensai again.

"It's in the same order that Echizen saw us again, isn't it?"

Suddenly, Fuji felt as though he were standing on a cliff, and that at any second, those knowing violet eyes were going to push him over the edge.

He didn't know what Momo was talking about. Which was exactly the problem. He always knew what Momo was talking about. Momo was the most transparent person in the entire world.

… Wasn't he?

Momo hesitated for a moment, putting his fingers back up to start counting again.

"And then, working backwards the same way… Oishi-senpai said goodbye to Eiji-senpai, and severed their friendship. You left early on purpose to go to Paris, which resulted in Tezuka-buchou finally rejecting his scholarship in Kyoto. Months earlier, Tezuka-buchou hurt himself because of you, and because of Echizen… Right?"

Fuji's sky blue eyes were fixated on Momo. That knowing voice rang in his ears, making his heart beat faster. His eyes were getting wider with something like anticipation, as the power player went on…

"So, let's say that a person wanted to reverse those events by working through them backwards, in that exact same order, to correct everything that went wrong," Momo continued, explaining very lightly, as though he were extremely detached from what he was saying.

"If that were the case, it might go something like this… Wait for Echizen to confront Oishi-senpai about his feelings for Eiji-senpai, which would force the Golden Pair to face what happened."

A painful grin was starting to slip onto Fuji's mouth. Now he understood.

"Then, perhaps, let Echizen be confronted by the tensai whose rebel behavior made our captain run away to Germany. Maybe on a rooftop, on a certain hotel…"

"You bastard," Fuji interjected, that same wild grin on his face. Momo went on.

"And then, encourage Echizen to confront Tezuka-buchou about his mysterious injury, the one no one could confirm actually happened."

Momo let his hand drop down to his side again, still staring at the court. A slight smile was on his lips, but there was no mirth in it.

"And where did it all start? Right here on this court, when Echizen challenged Tezuka-buchou to their final match, just before he left five years ago. But once the rest fell into place, that part took care of itself."

He nodded toward where Ryoma was still serving the ball.

"And as we speak, I'm sure that Oishi-senpai has already confessed the feelings he's had for Eiji-senpai for almost four years now."

For a moment, both Fuji and Momo stood in silence, listening to the lone sound of the tennis ball being hit again and again.

Then Momo turned to Fuji again, with an almost sly grin on his lips.

"Checkmate, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji shuddered, even though that sadistic smile was still playing on his mouth.

To think that he, the tensai, had been outplayed…

"You _used_ him!" he cried, almost viciously. "You used Echizen like a pawn, didn't you? Momoshiro, you used him as a tool, to reverse everything that went wrong… You had it all planned out, his every move…"

"And if I did?" Momo said quietly, crossing his arms as he stared at the court.

"Then you _manipulated_ him, Momoshiro? And you have no qualms about it? That's cold-blooded, especially for someone like you…"

"As for that, I didn't need to do much in the way of manipulation. In fact, my only role worth mentioning was to play along with your little game. I had to let myself get dead drunk so that you would feel confident about confronting him," interrupted Momo, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Something in that careless reply infuriated the tensai. He shot forward and grabbed Momo's arm, gripping it so tightly that the power player cringed.

"Really? So you knew just what you were doing, all along? There's just one problem, Momoshiro. It makes no sense, even for you."

Momo did a double take at that.

"What do you mean, Fuji-senpai?" he murmured, almost whispering it, with a frown on his mouth.

"There's no motive for you to do something like that. I thought you loved Echizen. And look at those two now. Don't you see what you've done here?"

Painfully, Fuji thrust an arm toward the chain link fence, pointing angrily at the two figures on the court.

For a second, Momo was silent, and Fuji thought he read some kind of sorrow in those purple eyes. But it was gone before he could confirm it.

"Yes, I know that," was the prompt reply.

"Then _why_?" Fuji cried, letting his arms drop helplessly. "If you don't want Echizen, then what do you want?"

"What do I want, Fuji-senpai?" Momo repeated.

He turned back toward the court and leaned against the chain link fence, watching the every move of the world famous teenager. And then he looked back at Fuji, and there was nothing but sincerity shining in his dark eyes.

"I want you to be happy, Fuji-senpai."

…

"_Momo, I don't know what to do… My girlfriend just broke up with me, and I… I can't call Oishi, and I'm so lonely, and I don't know what else to do…"_

"_I just wish I hadn't done it. I don't know why I did… When I tell myself that I hit Fuji, I get this sick feeling inside, and I just want to disappear. I don't know why I acted that way… It wasn't Fujiko-chan's fault…"_

"_I've decided to put my notebooks away for good, Momoshiro. I can't stand to take data on any of them anymore. It's getting too painful to watch…"_

"_You stupid idiot! I swear I'll never forgive you! What's the matter with you? How can you just give up like this? Echizen wouldn't like it. I… I don't like it, you moron!"_

…

"I just want everyone to be happy," Momo added, almost in a whisper, as his eyes grew distant again.

At that, Fuji didn't know whether to laugh or to cry with sheer pain.

"You wanted us to be _happy_?" he repeated incredulously. "How will this make everyone happy? Instead of watching one pillar break… We're going to lose them both!"

"I don't know about that," Momo interrupted, his hands tightening around the unforgiving metal fence. "But I do know one thing…"

He looked straight into Fuji's blue eyes again, and for the first time, the tensai knew what it was to be condemned by another person.

"I know that you had your way for the past two years, and your way was nothing but a nightmare."

Fuji was speechless. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that this man, this boy he had always known was the most transparent person alive…

He couldn't believe that Momo had so completely perceived the situation, right down to the last detail. Nor could he believe the way that he had taken it upon himself to reverse it, without the slightest detection on Fuji's part. He couldn't believe it…

How had Momo known everything all along? About all of them? About Tezuka's injury, even? That was the most carefully kept secret of them all, but Momo, it appeared, had already known about it.

"How?" Fuji couldn't help whispering.

Momo said nothing, simply staring in front of him at the two familiar figures on the court.

Suddenly, the flash of an idea came into Fuji's mind, and he laughed with a hollow kind of mirth. He had forgotten that Momo, too, had been Seigaku's captain once.

"So that's it, is it?" he muttered. "That's how you knew. You pillars are all alike…"

For a moment, it seemed to Fuji as though Momo hadn't even heard him. But then, slowly, the younger man shook his head, and for the first time, Fuji could clearly see the regret in those purple eyes.

"I'm no pillar, Fuji-senpai," he said sadly. "I've never been one. And since I couldn't be one… This is the only thing that I could do. Watch, and wait… And believe that everything would be alright."

His expression grew softer, as he watched Ryoma come up to the net and hit a perfect volley.

"I would never flatter myself, to believe that I could become a pillar. Watching them, when they're like this… Watching them play makes me understand that," he added quietly, nodded toward the court.

Fuji turned to see for himself, and he watched Tezuka, in a sudden burst of agility, catch up to one of Ryoma's most difficult shots. Looking at the former captain's eyes in that moment, he could see it.

The only thing in Tezuka's eyes was Ryoma.

On that court, in that moment… For Tezuka, there was no one else alive in the world.

And when Fuji looked at Ryoma, catching a glimpse of the emotion in those golden eyes… To him, they were nothing but a mirror of the former captain's eyes. It was a look he remembered well, one he hadn't forgotten… And even in five years, it hadn't changed at all.

The tensai smiled, even though it hurt.

"You're right. They're always like that," he admitted painfully, eyes shutting tight. "It's just the way they are… Up there in their own blue sky."

He clenched his teeth, trying to still the pain that was rising in his heart.

"They're such fools, really… Never even realizing how much we love them. Never even remembering that we exist, that we've never done anything but chase after them…"

"And so we follow them up into the sky, right, Fuji-senpai?" Momo volunteered, with a slight smile.

Fuji's eyes opened wide again, as he thought about this.

"Is that it, then? Maybe we were up in the sky, like that, with them…"

The tensai paused, unsure of what to say. It was as though something was on the tip of his tongue, something that he didn't have the words to express.

"Maybe they were just teaching us how to fly," added Momo, almost helpfully, as he clasped his hands behind his back with a light gesture.

Fuji's eyes grew distant, as he thought of the thrill of facing a boy on a court in the rain… Of the anticipation of facing off against a captain, as a true rival… It had been five years, but he could still remember the rush of those feelings.

"Maybe so," he said softly.

And as Fuji stood there, thinking of those faded memories, he was overcome with a sudden feeling of defeat.

This was it. It was over.

There was no place for him, between two pillars. He was a tensai, he was a fallen angel, but he wasn't a pillar. He wasn't, and there was no way that he could hope to become one. And he was through with chasing something that he could never catch.

"Maybe so," he repeated under his breath. "But I can't fly with them anymore."

And before Momoshiro knew it, Fuji was gone. The power player stood there, staring into the darkness for a moment, trying to make out the tensai's fragile form. But the shorter man had disappeared.

Momo turned back toward the court, and was thinking of disappearing himself, when his eyes opened wide in surprise.

Tezuka, former captain of Seigaku, was on his knees.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Tezuka Kunimitsu felt as though an eternity had passed since Echizen had thrown the racquet into his hand. It was as if time itself was playing in slow motion, painfully rewinding until he could see for himself, beyond the shadow of a doubt, exactly where he had gone wrong.

To have a racquet in his grasp again…

He would have never guessed that it could have been so painful.

As Echizen served for what must have been the thousandth time, Tezuka felt himself lunge forward toward the ball. But the strain had finally brought the former captain to an impasse. The racquet flew out of his throbbing right hand, and Tezuka stumbled and finally fell to the ground.

Tezuka Kunimitsu was on his knees.

In that moment, Tezuka understood. He knew exactly why Echizen had asked him to come to this court…

…

_Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!_

…

Ryoma lowered his racquet at the sight of the fallen captain. He stared at that kneeling figure, with a mixture of regret and frustration shining in his golden eyes. And without a word, he began walking up to the net.

Tezuka watched from the ground, trying to catch his breath, as Ryoma took step after step toward him. To both of them, it was as though the entire world was silent, a gaping void filled with nothing but darkness.

Ryoma came up to the net, and he stared down at Tezuka.

"You were the pillar, Tezuka-buchou," he said at last, in a pained voice.

Tezuka wanted to respond, but he couldn't say a word.

"You were the pillar, and you failed," he added, his voice getting louder.

In Tezuka's eyes, he saw a mirror of himself standing before him, declaring his every mistake for the world to judge.

"You failed them, Buchou. Every last one of them!" Ryoma exclaimed, the tension evident in his face. "You let them fall. You ran away, you left them hanging on a thread, you let them fall apart. But most of all…"

Ryoma took a deep breath.

"Most of all, _I_ failed. I failed you, Buchou."

Tezuka's eyes widened in shock.

He could hear Ryoma's voice start to tremble.

"I ran away before I could fulfill your request. You told me to leave no regrets behind. But I… I left behind the biggest regret of my life, and I left it where I couldn't see the pain that I caused."

…

"_You want to know who's to blame for everything falling apart, Echizen? … You're the one who made our strongest pillar crumble into dust and blow away in the wind."_

…

There were tears coming into Ryoma's eyes now, shining tears that seemed to Tezuka to sparkle like gold.

"I failed you, Tezuka-buchou. But I won't fail you now. And so, Buchou…"

Ryoma took a deep breath, letting the tears fall down his face.

"I'm not leaving. I won't leave you this time. But there's something you have to do for me."

Tezuka had caught his breath by this point, though he was still on his knees. He was listening intently to every word the teenager said. But this last sentence surprised him.

"Something I have to do for you?" the former captain repeated, with confusion in his eyes.

Ryoma smiled, even through his tears.

"Yes, Buchou. I need you to do something. If I had never run away, then I…" Here Ryoma's voice started to catch in his throat. For a split second, Tezuka saw something in those golden eyes that he had never noticed before.

_Oh, God… he didn't actually…_

"I might have said something very different, if I had never left back then," Ryoma finally managed with difficulty. It was growing harder and harder to speak, as he looked down at Tezuka's kneeling form, as he realized the chance that he had lost.

But he couldn't stop there. No, he had to say it.

This was the only thing that he could do for them, for all of them, in his last unfinished act as their pillar. And so, for his friends, who were precious to him, he had to do it. He had no other choice.

He had to give up his hold on this man.

"Tezuka-buchou…" Ryoma began again, trying to say it.

He had to say it…

"Tezuka-buchou, there's someone you love!" he cried suddenly, passionately.

Tezuka's eyes widened in shock.

"There's someone you love," Ryoma repeated. "And you need to tell him!"

Just like that, Tezuka felt as though he had been shaken awake, that the last of the cobwebs had been brushed away, that the final shards of the nightmare had splintered into nothing…

He stared at Ryoma, blown away by the sudden sensation of clarity.

"You need to tell him!" Ryoma exclaimed again. "Because if you don't, you'll lose your chance. You'll lose him… And I don't want you to lose him. I want…"

Ryoma's voice lowered to a whisper. He could barely speak now.

"I want you both to be happy."

Ryoma gripped his racquet tightly, holding it to his chest, as he murmured his final wish.

"Please, be happy, Buchou."

Slowly, Tezuka felt the strength come back into his body. He felt himself nod, still in shock at the words that Ryoma had spoken, amazed that this boy had seen so deeply into his own heart that he had awakened him to his own longing…

Suddenly, he realized something. Something important.

Something important that he had forgotten.

His eyes widened again in horror, and he sprang to his feet. Much to Ryoma's surprise, he leaned right across the net and grabbed the boy's hand, pressing tightly against it with his fingers. He had hardly finished muttering a sincere "Thank you, Echizen," before he released the tennis star again and dashed off of the court.

Ryoma watched, in a mixture of confusion and relief, as the former captain ran out the door and began sprinting down the sidewalk.

And then suddenly, he realized why Tezuka had disappeared so quickly, in response to his own urging.

Ryoma was instantly filled with a sick sense of dread.

**- end of chapter twenty-one -**

* * *

_A/N: Well, I almost got this chapter done when I wanted to!… Gaaah. XD But at least it wasn't as long of a wait! By the way, don't worry, everyone; the story doesn't get more angst-ridden than this, and a happier ending is on the way. Also, I know this chapter was VERY Tezuka/Ryoma/Fuji-centric. That's all about to change in a very big way, and many of your questions about the other characters will be answered. Unfortunately, I couldn't fit the other characters into this chapter, just for the sake of continuity. But it's coming up in chapter twenty-two!_

_By the way, you may have noticed the sudden surprise of this chapter… Momo knows what he's doing. Lol! XD There may be some of you who are questioning my sanity in regards to that concept, but really, I can back up this idea. Momo has keen powers of perception, despite the fact that he is normally a very carefree guy. Maybe I'll address that issue in an FAQ question, and mention the plot points that gave me this impression… Anyway, I'm sure some of you noticed that I was hinting at this all along, mostly in the chapter where the Regulars who stayed in Japan take Ryoma to Taka's shop._

_So… hmmm…._

… _Once again, I get the feeling that there is something I should be saying, but that I've forgotten it. O.O Well, in any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and the next one will be up before the end of the week. Really, no kidding! I have the second half of the week off from school, so that's a given. Hopefully that's a relief to anyone who may be on pins and needles, waiting for the conclusion. Which reminds me… My best guess as to how long this fic will be? About 25 chapters, plus an epilogue. I haven't written it out yet, obviously, but I'm pretty confident that it's a good estimate. Yes, it probably seems far away, but it'll be done before you know it! XD_

_Thanks once again to all reviewers and readers! I love you all. **Let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-one!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** Tezuka makes his own sacrifice, even though it may be too late for the person he loves. Also, Eiji is forced to look inside his own heart, while Kaidoh is determined to finally give Momoshiro a piece of his mind. Also, Ryoma has a confrontation of his own, with a person who is now on the very edge of desperation…_


	22. Chapter 22: Confess and Repent

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Confess and Repent**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… It's just completely consumed my life, darling. XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twenty-two! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Ryuzaki-sensei pinches flamers' cheeks and makes them sit on their ankles. **Lol.

Yes, it's the next chapter, finally! XD I hope you enjoy it, everyone. In any case, it should help answer some of your questions from various other chapters. It's also a mixture of fluff, angst, and exposition. (The best kind, lol.) Enjoy! **And let me know what you all think of chapter twenty-two!**

* * *

_Why do we fall in love with someone?_

_Is it fate? Is it written in the stars? Is it decided at our birth, from our very first breath?_

_Or is it just chance? A toss of the dice? A trick of the light? … I wish I knew._

_I spent all my time asking why in the world I would fall in love with you._

_Then suddenly, I realized… Why wouldn't I love you?_

…

_Fuji walked and walked, into the dark emptiness of the street before him. He hardly noticed his legs moving, pounding against the pavement over and over in an agonizing rhythm. He hardly noticed, because the pain inside of him was far too overwhelming._

_It was very nearly matched, however, with the throbbing ache on one side of his face._

_Almost mechanically, the tensai lifted his hand and lightly touched his cheek. Cringing at the sting, he drew his hand back just as quickly and bit his lip in pain. He was sure that it looked even worse than it felt. He had caught a glimpse of himself in a store window as he passed, and the swollen red mark on one side of his face had glared back at him like a threatening reminder of the day's events._

_He had deserved it. Fuji knew that for a fact. But it didn't lessen the sense of betrayal._

_After all, he had been given the wound by the last person he would have ever expected to hit him. No matter what Fuji did, Taka always understood. Taka forgave him. Even when no one else did, Taka would take the time to listen to Fuji's side of the story, always with that same concerned expression on his face... Taka was Fuji's closest friend…_

_Today, though, Taka had hit him right across the face, in an absolute rage._

_The tensai could feel tears coming to his eyes, but he refused to let those tears fall. He wouldn't cry. He had no excuse to cry, after all… He had gotten himself in this mess, and he would just have to put up with the consequences. He didn't need any pity._

_No, he didn't want an ounce of sympathy for what he had done._

_What he did want, though…_

_Well, thinking about that was useless. What Fuji really wanted was something he would never have. He knew that much. He had always known it, really, and yet with the newfound ache in his heart, that old longing couldn't help but resurface with a renewed bitterness… _

_What he wanted was completely unattainable._

_What he wanted was a heart that could not be captured by any merely human being._

_What he wanted was the heart of a god._

_The tensai's train of thought only gave the hurt in his body a sharper edge. Fuji bit his lip again in pain, until the faint taste of blood entered his mouth. He grimaced, trying to will the ache away, when his eyes fell on the building right in front of him. The sign above the door indicated that the establishment was some kind of restaurant._

_Almost automatically, Fuji's eyes fell on the other signs in the window. They were alcohol brand names, presumably advertisements for the types of alcohol available inside the building._

_Fuji's eyes dwelled on those signs. The light from the windows gleamed in his sky blue irises, dancing across his face like the slightest hint of inspiration._

…

_Hours later, Fuji would stagger outside of the restaurant, completely numb. Even in that shady side of town, people would stare at the drunken teenager and his bruised cheek. They would wonder what had brought such a beautiful boy to such a dark place, leaving him to drown his pain in alcohol. Their questions would go unanswered, though, as the boy slowly meandered down the street, his heart willing himself to go home, even though his legs would not obey._

…

…

…

Fuji spread his arms wide, as if willing himself to embrace the night sky above him. His head was thrown back, so that his eyes looked upward into the vast canopy of stars. Their silver light beckoned to him, like the urging of a voice he longed to forget, demanding to know why he was here and what he was doing.

The tensai lowered his arms again and looked out at the scene laid out in front of him. There, glittering like a treasure chest of jewels, was the cityscape of Tokyo, just as it had been two nights earlier when he had confronted Ryoma with his accusation. The wind was blowing, just as it had during that night, but the smell of rain had completely disappeared from the air. There would be no storm this time.

_How fitting. Just when I might wish for rain._

Fuji leaned forward, looking down from the hotel roof to the ground below. A million tiny lights danced before his face, as cars sped by on the crowded streets, and masses of people ebbed and flowed through the crosswalks. It was a dizzying spectacle of distant activity, even so late at night.

And there he was, Fuji Shusuke, standing above it all.

Fuji was used to viewing most of the world from such a height. From the very beginning of his childhood, Fuji had been told he was a genius. He was adored by adults and envied by his peers for his many talents. Yes, from the very beginning, Fuji had led a charmed life, with every kind of natural gift being handed to him on a silver platter.

Or so, it seemed, people thought.

From Fuji's perspective, though, he was only trapped. He was trapped between the earth and the sky, considered too perfect to be close to 'normal' people, but somehow unable to fly on his own. Perhaps it had been his apathy that had crippled his ambition. When it came to tennis, after all, he had only sought the thrill of defeating a talented opponent… That is, of course, until he had finally met a person that he couldn't possibly defeat.

That person was Tezuka Kunimitsu.

That person had forced Fuji to face his own shortcomings, to realize that his many gifts were insufficient when compared to a person like Tezuka's. In seeing the way that Tezuka held himself together, Fuji felt his own self-control falling apart. In understanding that Tezuka's resolve was firmly grounded in his most powerful ambitions, the tensai's dreams only seemed to grow colder and more insignificant. And in witnessing all the natural talent that Tezuka had been blessed with, Fuji felt that his own gifts were little more than a curse.

Tezuka was perfection in human form. Fuji, however, was not, and the tensai had come to understand this all too well.

Still, he had secretly longed to become a better person, from the very first moment that he had seen Tezuka's talent for himself. He had intended to become a worthy opponent for the former captain, and to follow him wherever he led, just as everyone else had done.

And yet, every time he tried to improve, he only found himself wasting time in watching the object of his admiration, until he finally realized what had happened…

He wasn't in awe over Tezuka's perfection. He was in awe over Tezuka himself.

In fact, he was in love.

In love with a god, no less.

If he had realized it sooner, Fuji might have genuinely smiled at the idea, back when they were both still innocent. He might have found it incredibly ironic, that he should have fallen for the only person who was above him, that he had somehow managed to choose someone who was so completely unattainable. He might have laughed, even, and then resolved that he would have Tezuka's heart anyway, and set out to stake his claim over that perfect being.

He might have, but by the time Fuji had realized it, it had been much too late for that. By that time, his own imperfection seemed so hideous in his own eyes that he gave up the idea of earning the right to love that man.

Instead, he chose to ruin that man, in order to make him his own.

It was absolutely despicable. The tensai knew that. It was a filthy method, one that Fuji himself would have frowned upon if his mind hadn't already been completely warped into thinking it was acceptable. In fact, in his view, it was the only option. Otherwise, Tezuka was going to slip from his grasp.

All along, though, the tensai had secretly known that even his best efforts would be useless. Somehow, that god was going to get away from him, no matter what Fuji did. And now, his own unspoken prophecy had come true.

Fuji glanced back up at the sky, and his eyes were fixated upon the glittering stars above his head. He watched, as they shone with their pure, silvery light, placed like diamonds against a cascade of black velvet…

_That's right. He's a god, after all. He's up there in that sky._

Fuji could feel his throat tighten up at his mental confession. It was something he could no longer avoid. He had seen that look in Tezuka's eyes, as the former captain had faced Echizen Ryoma on the court. He knew what that look meant.

_He's in that sky, and his only possible equal is the star that conquered the world._

… _And that isn't me._

Slowly, unconsciously, Fuji felt his legs lift his body up onto the raised ledge on the side of the building. The wind howled around him, but he hardly felt it. Still looking up at the sky, he straightened his legs again, standing precariously on the very top of the twenty-story structure. His eyes remained fixated on those bright stars above him, and he felt his arm reach upward into the night, grasping at the air.

"I can't reach you," he murmured, very softly, as his eyes filled with pain.

He lowered his head again, and looked out over the city. Suddenly, he realized that he was standing on the very edge of the skyscraper, and his heart stopped beating. If he made one false move, he was going to fall to his death. He was absolutely terrified.

But in his terror, he forgot to silence the taunting voices that echoed inside his head.

_You are such a fool. Did you really think he was going to save you?_

"Yes, I did," Fuji whispered in reply, trembling. Everything in him was trying to keep himself from looking down, because if he did that, he was sure that he would fall…

_He doesn't love you. He hates you. He wants you to die._

"That's not true," the tensai protested shakily, trying to breathe normally, trying to calm himself.

_Yes, it is. You ruined his arm. You ruined his life. It's all your fault… Just like with your little brother…_

… _You're so worthless._

_Just die, already!_

Fuji couldn't believe it, but tears were running down his face. No, he didn't cry… He never cried, but there were tears running down his face all the same. Why was he crying? He had never fooled himself into thinking that Tezuka cared for him, but still…

Something in him just didn't want to die…

_You're alone._

Fuji's blue eyes opened wide in sudden comprehension.

_You're alone. They're together now. They're going to leave you behind._

_And you'll be completely alone. Do you understand?_

Slowly, Fuji nodded, showing that he understood. The corners of his mouth began to twist upward into a smile, until they broke out into a positively sadistic grin. It clashed strangely with his tear-stained face, and it looked even stranger when the tensai threw back his head and laughed like an angel.

"I am alone," he declared to the silent world. "I have nothing to lose anymore!"

With that, he looked down, taking in the sight of the city below him. It was a long way to fall, after all, especially for those standing the closest to the sky…

"Well, then, let me fall again. I'm tired of flying," he proclaimed to the empty wind.

With that, Fuji Shusuke put one foot out into the open air, and fell forward into the abyss.

…

_Tezuka woke up to find himself in Fuji's apartment in Paris. His head was pounding. He had never tried alcohol before, but after his first sip the previous night, he had completely lost all power of self-control. There was something irresistibly satisfying about numbing all his darkened thoughts with that potent drink, about forgetting his regrets and letting himself drop his guard. Yes, at the time he had been happy to pour himself glass after glass, until he couldn't even see straight…_

… _But now, he had no idea what had happened to him during the previous night._

_Slowly, he sat up in the bed, looking around him at the unfamiliar room. His glasses were no longer on his face, and it took a moment for him to process his currently blurred surroundings. He had a faint conviction that it must have been Fuji's apartment, even though he'd only been inside the tensai's quarters once before. Suddenly, his eyes fell on the bed itself, and his heart stopped beating._

_There, lying next to him, was the tensai, clothed only in a snow white bed sheet. And Tezuka himself was also completely naked._

_His heart was instantly filled with a thousand conflicting emotions; fear, disgust, and anger were among them. And yet, in that moment, Tezuka also realized something else. It was something he would never admit aloud, not to anyone, but it was a truth that he couldn't possibly avoid._

_From that day forward, he wouldn't be able to live without this angelic being at his side._

…

Tezuka felt his heart drop in a horrifying mixture of terror and anguish. He had seen it. He had watched in shock, as Fuji stepped out onto the ledge of the hotel and reached for the sky in abandon. Tezuka had started running toward the tensai then, intending to call out to him, when that strangely beautiful laugh had made the words catch in his throat.

And now, he was watching, as the tensai took a step forward and fell to his imminent death.

_NO!_

…

"_Is this all you want from life, Tezuka? Is this really it?"_

…

"Shusuke!" he yelled.

In that moment, it felt as though Tezuka's spirit had left his body, that his conscious mind was watching from somewhere outside of himself as he lunged forward across the ledge. He thought time had frozen, as he groped aimlessly for the tensai, until he discovered to his shock that his hand was gripping Fuji's arm, holding the tensai just below the top of the building.

Instantly, a wave of relief flooded the former captain's heart. He had made it in time. Just barely, but… He had made it. Fuji would live.

It was then with dismay that Tezuka realized that the arm that was holding Fuji up was his injured one. His fingers were trembling with the strain, and any second, he was going to drop him, leaving the tensai to fall twenty stories to the unforgiving pavement below…

"Shusuke!" he called frantically. "Grab my other hand!"

The tensai was looking up at him in wonder, as though he couldn't even begin to comprehend why he wasn't dead. But at the former captain's plea, Fuji shook his head violently.

"No! I don't want to live! Let me go!" he screamed, anger in his sky blue eyes.

"Shusuke, take my hand!" Tezuka ordered. "I can't hold you up with this arm!"

A kind of tormented anguish appeared in the tensai's expression, and those eyes lingered on the former captain's weaker arm.

"I know you can't!" Fuji wailed against the howling wind. "And it's my own fault! For what I did to you… I deserve to die!"

Suddenly, Tezuka's eyes sparked with amber fire, and the tensai's resolve melted into nothing.

"I don't care!" Tezuka declared with authority, in spite of the darkness, in spite of the gale around him. He reached out his other arm toward the tensai, straining against the ledge, which was pressing into his chest.

"I don't care!" he repeated, at the top of his lungs. "I love you!"

The tensai stared into those burning amber eyes, and he was completely overwhelmed. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to tell Tezuka that he was lying, that this was some kind of trick to give him the false hope he needed to live…

But those eyes couldn't lie. No, Tezuka couldn't lie.

He wasn't lying. He meant it. Tezuka loved him.

"Tezuka…" he breathed in astonishment, forgetting his precarious position. "Tezuka, how could you…?"

"Shusuke, take my hand!" Tezuka commanded again in desperation.

Much to his relief, Fuji finally obeyed, and not a moment too soon. Tezuka's newly-freed hand instantly cramped up from the strain, and it locked into a weak fist that couldn't possibly have maintained a grip on Fuji's slender fingers. With his other arm, though, he was able to slowly lift the delicate tensai upward toward the ledge. And it was with a profound sense of relief that the former captain summoned his last ounce of strength to heave the smaller man over the side… and into his arms.

They hadn't even caught their breath, as they lay there in exhaustion against the hard stone floor, before Fuji began weeping in a mixture of sorrow and relief.

"Shusuke… don't…" Tezuka was still gasping for air, as he tried to sit up again. The tensai obligingly moved away from the former captain, with the tears still dripping down his beautiful face.

"I'm sorry… Tezuka… but you… you actually---?" The tensai couldn't continue, as he tried to sputter out his words between choked sobs.

Without another word, Tezuka swept Fuji into his arms, and let the smaller man cry into his chest. After a full minute had gone by, and Tezuka's breathing rate had somewhat returned to normal, he began to speak again.

"Yes, I love you, Shusuke," he said once more, the conviction self-evident in his voice.

"But why---?" Fuji murmured, his voice muffled by Tezuka's shirtfront. The wind around them had slowly died down to a gentler breeze.

"Why couldn't you see it?" was Tezuka's almost exasperated response. "I followed you all the way to Europe, and I couldn't once bring myself to leave you. Why wouldn't I love you?"

"I just thought… I thought you felt sorry for me," the tensai replied softly, eyes shimmering with tears. "Because I'm sick, and I…"

"And you needed me," Tezuka interrupted quietly. "And I need you, Shusuke."

Fuji looked back up at the former captain, his expression filled with wonder.

"I thought that you would never call me by that name," he whispered, gazing up into the taller man's blazing eyes.

He lifted himself upward, toward that perfect statue of a face, and their lips met, like two trembling flames that flickered in the wind.

"I do need you, Kunimitsu," the tensai murmured after they had kissed. "More than life."

And again, their lips met. Somewhere above their heads, an exceptionally bright star shone against the night sky, like an unspoken blessing upon a lonely wish that had at last been fulfilled.

"_I want you both to be happy."_

For a moment, the star dimmed slightly, but it continued to shine bravely against the darkness, with a courage that went completely unnoticed by the couple below.

- - - - - - - - -

"_I am so in love with you that I can hardly stand it."_

…

Eiji's arms were covered in soap bubbles, almost up to his elbows. He had been washing the dishes in the sink, but the task at hand kept slipping away from his mind. For the moment, the plates were just lying there, forgotten. The redhead stared straight in front of him, at the blank wall above the faucet head, and a blush started creeping into his cheeks for the hundredth time in the past half hour.

It was just no use. He couldn't stop thinking of Oishi's sudden confession, of the way the former vice captain had kneeled in front of him and declared so passionately that he…

That he loved him…

"_I love you."_

A shiver went down Eiji's spine, and he shuddered slightly, remembering the way Oishi's voice had caressed those three little words, with all the emotion of someone whose heart had been stolen right out of his chest.

This shocked Eiji. Could he really have stolen Oishi's heart? He certainly had never meant to do something like that… He almost felt like he had done something wrong, to make his best friend look so desperate for him…

He also realized what the real reason was for Oishi's illness. It was him. Oishi had been lovesick over _him_.

This truth scared him, in a way, but Eiji couldn't deny that it was breathtakingly flattering. To think that someone had loved him so deeply that he had forgotten to take care of himself, that he had given himself up for dead and wandered through life like a ghost of his former being…

That was a love that was limitless.

It made Eiji's heart falter inside his chest, to think that anyone could love him like that. To think that anyone could hold him so dear, that he would let his unrequited passion consume his very life…

_Oishi, I'm scared. I'm scared that you love me so much. _

_Because I… I don't know what to do about it…_

_What should I do?_

Eiji swallowed, hard, and tried to push his train of thought out of his mind. He didn't want to think about how much power Oishi had given him. He didn't want to consider the possibility of accidentally breaking Oishi's heart… But he didn't know how to keep it from breaking, either.

He just… didn't know. He didn't know a thing about love like this, about feelings that were so strong that they could kill a person.

Eiji shook his head, in an attempt to distract himself from his worries. Suddenly, he noticed that the faucet was still running, and he scrambled to wash the last of the dishes and wipe the bubbles off of his arms. Upon finishing this task, he twisted the knob, stopping the flow of water.

"Eiji-senpai, where is Oishi-senpai?"

The abrupt question made Eiji's heart leap out of his chest in surprise.

He whirled around, only to see his roommate standing in the doorway, meeting his shocked stare with a puzzled expression.

"Oh, Momo, it's you," Eiji breathed, putting one hand to his heart in relief.

"Yes, it's me," Momo confirmed, as he raised an eyebrow. The power player's hands were rested casually on his hips, and his violet eyes were fixed intently on the redhead's face. Eiji didn't notice this observant look, however.

"You surprised me," Eiji was saying, still trying to will his heartbeat to return to normal. "Where did you run off to, anyway?"

Momo shrugged a little, answering the inquiry before he repeated his own question. "I just went out for some air. Where is Oishi-senpai?"

At the sound of his former double partner's name, Eiji felt his face get hot, but he tried to reply as nonchalantly as he could.

"He said he was feeling better, but he was getting tired again… So I told him to go sleep in our room."

"Ah, I see," Momo responded, a bit lightly. His eyes remained locked on Eiji's face, examining the blush on his roommate's cheeks and the embarrassed sparkle in those dark blue eyes.

After a moment of silence, as Eiji wiped his hands on a dishrag, Momo spoke up again.

"Eiji-senpai, did something happen?" he asked calmly, noticed the way the redhead started fidgeting uncomfortably at the question.

"Did what happen, Momo?" Eiji artfully managed to avoid answering, as he became strangely intent on folding the towel just so before replacing it next to the sink.

"Did Oishi-senpai tell you that he loved you?"

Eiji froze in shock.

There was an almost painful pause, filled with something like suspense, before the redhead could bring himself to look his roommate in the eye. By the time he did, his heart was going a mile a minute, and his face was an even deeper shade of red.

"Did… did he what? Ah, why would he do something like that, Momo?" he stammered, completely embarrassed.

Momo smiled, ever so slightly, and shrugged again. "I don't know, Eiji-senpai… I was just asking."

There was another pause, until Eiji finally murmured, "Yes, he did."

"That's good," Momo said in reply, as he came up alongside the kitchen table and pulled out one of the chairs. As his roommate sat down, Eiji suddenly realized something.

There was no way that Momo should have known about that.

"Wait a second… Momo, how did you know about it?" Eiji asked suddenly, frowning. Something about this definitely wasn't right. But before Momo could answer, Eiji's eyes widened with a sudden realization.

"You mean…" He trailed off, still in shock. "You mean you already knew about Oishi…?"

Momo leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table and cupping his chin in one hand. He gazed at Eiji very intently, before nodding in reply.

"Yeah, I knew."

"How---?" Eiji couldn't help murmuring, taking a few steps closer to the table. His eyes were also locked on Momo, just as those purple eyes were locked on him.

"It was obvious that he cared a lot about you, Eiji-senpai," Momo answered, very simply and with complete sincerity.

"Momo…" Eiji whispered, almost under his breath. Something in those eyes entranced him. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but those eyes were trying to tell him something…

_Be happy._

"Eiji-senpai, how do you feel about Oishi-senpai?" Momo asked quietly, still meeting his roommate's astonished stare.

Eiji felt his breath catch in his throat.

"How do I feel---?" he managed to repeat, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

"You have to tell him," urged Momo, with surprising gentleness. "Now that he's told you, you need to return the favor."

There was a pause, as Eiji considered this statement.

"But, Momo, what if I don't really know what ---"

Eiji's attempt at a reply was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door.

"I'll get it!" the redhead declared, vanishing into the hallway before Momo could even move a muscle. The power player could hear the door open, and then he noticed the sound of footsteps, as two people stepped inside the entryway. He already recognized the voices, which were talking with Eiji in quiet tones about something that Momo already knew.

"Kaidoh and I saw Echizen running down the street on our way to the hotel. I don't think that he's leaving Japan yet."

"But why? He told Oishi and I that he was going to leave tonight…"

"Something must have come up, Kikumaru-senpai."

"What kind of something?"

Momo listened for a moment to the ensuing conversation, with a blank expression on his face. Then, he got up from the table, quietly leaving the kitchen and sneaking into the living room. He walked across to the other side, to where the porch door was hidden by a long curtain, and started working at the latch with one hand. Deftly, with the kind of familiarity that comes from repetition, he slid the glass door open almost noiselessly and came out onto the porch, closing the door again behind him.

Glancing at the night sky, Momo walked up to the railing and leaned his elbows against it, again resting his chin in his hands. He was startled out of his reverie, however, by the sudden sound of the door opening once again.

"I knew you'd be out here, you idiot."

Oh, perfect. That was just what Momo needed.

The power player rolled his eyes and faced his rival, glaring as he did so. "Yeah, I'm here, Viper. What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Kaidoh repeated in a low growl. "You know what I want. Why were you following Echizen around, you moron?"

"Why was I---?" Momo suddenly interrupted himself, annoyed. "How many times do I have to tell you that it's none of your business, you freak?"

The snakelike teenager's eyes glinted in anger, and he lunged forward and grabbed Momo by the shirtfront.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that it is my business, _Momoshiro-buchou_?" he retorted bitterly, with only the faintest hint of irony.

At that, Momo couldn't quite suppress a pained grin.

"You _would_ play that card, wouldn't you?" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze from those angry eyes. "Just because we were partners for one year…"

"I'm not playing any cards," Kaidoh hissed. "You and I have always been like this. Or at least… that's the way we always _were_. Until you decided to abandon us."

"Abandon you?" scoffed Momo, with a defiant toss of his head. "I don't remember abandoning anyone. It's not like I left for Europe…"

"You know what I mean!" Kaidoh shouted in frustration. There was a tense pause. Finally, Momo took Kaidoh's hands in his own, and pulled them off of his shirt.

"Alright," he admitted, very quietly. "I do know. But I told you before… It's not like I wanted to choose this. It's just what I had to do."

In the following silence, the wind sped up slightly, whistling around their heads.

"Why?" Kaidoh asked, still tense, still glaring at his rival.

"Because it was the only thing I could do, for everyone's sake. I'm not like you, Viper," Momo said, turning back toward the railing and letting his eyes wander around the city.

"What do you mean by that?" Kaidoh demanded, even though his frown had become somewhat less infuriated.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" sighed Momo in frustration. "Look, Viper, you're made for the pro circuits. I'm not. Your ambition grew stronger as we got older, but mine didn't. You're skilled enough to beat professional players, and I just hit power shots. So I _couldn't_ follow you into the minor circuits. And once I finally figured that out…"

Momo let the slightest hint of regret come into his dark eyes.

"Then I knew that I had to choose to stay here. To stay behind. Because there was someone here who needed a friend more than anything."

Momo glanced at Kaidoh, to see if his rival understood, but a slight nod from the snakelike teenager indicated that he already knew who the power player meant.

"Kikumaru-senpai," Kaidoh noted, even though it was obvious to the both of them.

"That's right. So now, I have a new goal. And even if it's nothing like me, I'm going to see that goal through, no matter how much maneuvering it takes," finished Momo, with a frank nod and a determined look in his eyes. It was a look that reminded Kaidoh of other times, times when they had faced each other on opposite sides of the tennis court. This particular look, though, had a faint softness in it that was unfamiliar to his rival.

"I guess I understand, as far as all that goes," Kaidoh muttered at last. "But you're still a complete idiot."

Momo bristled again at that remark. "_Who's_ a complete idiot?"

"You are!" Kaidoh promptly responded, his voice growing louder again. Momo whirled around, eyes sparking, and shot back, "How am I the idiot here? You're the imbecile who doesn't even have a clue about what's going on!"

Kaidoh hissed, meeting his rival's infuriated glare. "And you're the moron who absolutely refuses to tell Echizen how you feel about him!"

For a split second, Momo made a shocked face, one that vaguely reminded Kaidoh of a fish sucking air. But then the power player had his own retort, one that stung Kaidoh to the very core of his being.

"And you're the one who never told Inui-senpai how _you_ feel!"

Completely stunned, Kaidoh just stared at Momo, with his mouth hanging slightly open. He could hardly believe that Momo had really said that. The power player was his rival, and he knew him well, of course… But that particular piece of information should have been a secret to every last being on the face of the earth, except for Kaidoh himself. He had taken great pains to make sure that was the case… and yet…

"How did you know about that?" he muttered, unable to mask his disbelief.

"I know you," was Momo's prompt response, as the violet-eyed teenager crossed his arms and stared right at Kaidoh. "What I don't know is why you never told him, you idiot."

For a moment, Kaidoh was completely silent, as he let himself remember in a single instant what had happened in the space of five years. But even before he had done so, he knew the answer to that particular question.

Frustrated, Kaidoh stared at the ground and mumbled, "I'm not stupid enough to think that he could feel the same way."

"Oh, really?" Momo raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, you don't know until you try, Viper, and I never pegged you as being a coward."

"Fssssshhhhhh."

Kaidoh hissed, annoyed, as he clenched his hands tightly into two fists.

"I know that," he protested angrily. "But there's no point in telling him. Do you have any idea how much data he takes on people? If he actually wanted to, he'd already know about it by now."

Kaidoh never bothered to look back up at his rival, but there was a slightly surprised look in Momo's dark eyes.

"Anyway, that doesn't apply to you," Kaidoh growled suddenly. "What's your excuse? Are you a coward?"

Momo flinched slightly, but he shook it off before replying, "You're right. Echizen doesn't know… Which is exactly the point. What he doesn't know can't bother him."

Momo ended his answer there, turning back to the railing, but Kaidoh wasn't satisfied. The snakelike teenager came up alongside his rival, trying to read that elusive expression.

"That doesn't make sense, you idiot," he observed bluntly. "Since when is telling something you care about them the same thing as bothering them?"

At that, Momo sighed in frustration, clenching his teeth slightly at the remark.

"You just don't get it, Viper," he shot back. "How could you possibly understand? Echizen is…"

His hands gripped the railing.

"Echizen is _perfect_."

Those dark eyes grew distant, faintly reflecting the glow of the city before them, and his voice grew softer.

"I mean, he really is perfect. He's completely flawless. What could I possibly have to offer someone who's like that? It's just that I… I…"

Momo took a deep breath.

"I don't deserve him."

Kaidoh stared intently at his rival, watching him with his piercing eyes, noticing the way Momo's fingers lightly tapped against the railing, and the way his lower jaw had stiffened ever so slightly with the confession.

"Hmph. Do you really believe that?" scoffed Kaidoh suddenly, with another characteristic hiss.

Momo stiffened again, shooting a glare in his former teammate's general direction.

"Yes, I do," he retorted. "Besides, it's not like you could understand how I feel. You and Inui-senpai were practically made for each other!"

Kaidoh was completely taken aback by that comment.

"Wh-what are you saying, idiot?" he stammered, face flushing.

"I'm saying you were made for each other," Momo repeated bluntly. "Everyone knows it. The only reason you aren't together yet is just because a certain someone really should get a spine and _fess up already_…"

Kaidoh recovered temporarily from his state of shock, long enough to grimace at his opponent for the slight on his vertebral column.

"Besides, why else would Inui-senpai invite you to come live with him in Kyushu?" Momo added, with a significant look.

At that question, however, Kaidoh just pointedly noted, "I don't know… Why did Kikumaru-senpai ask you to come live with _him_?"

"You know, Viper, sometimes you're just plain stubborn," was Momo's final retort, as the power player turned back to the glass door and slid it open. He'd had enough of that conversation, and he didn't feel like revealing any more of his secrets at the moment.

"And you're just plain stupid," Kaidoh snapped, more from habit than actual annoyance.

Momo had already closed the porch door behind him, however. For a minute, Kaidoh just stood there, as he looked out over the city one last time.

"Idiot…" he whispered to the wind. "Who's practically made for who?"

But at that, he just shook his head in frustration, turning his back on the shimmering lights as he re-entered the small apartment.

**- end of chapter twenty-two -**

* * *

_A/N: Ugh… Once again, this chapter is late. I'm really sorry about that, everyone! Real life attacked me in various forms during my vacation, and this chapter also proved itself somewhat difficult to write. Bleah. Fuji's determination to hinder my every attempt to expose his character strikes again!_

_Fuji: Oh, don't blame me for your lack of skill._

_FallingSilver: But you're such a convenient excuse! XD_

_At least I finally finished it! And I hope you all enjoyed it. I think this answers a lot of the questions out there about the fic, though if you have others that are still unanswered, you can always note me. And don't forget, more is on the way! Obviously, there are still some pretty big things to take care of before this story can end. Like, really big things. Like plot resolution. -laughs- Not to mention there was actually supposed to be another scene in this chapter, but I figured it was long enough already, so into the next chapter it will go._

_In any case, thank you all for waiting so patiently! The next chapter will be up asap, probably around the end of this week. **In the meantime, let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-two!**_

_By the way, I know many of you are still reading this in spite of not enjoying the pairings I chose. And I just wanted to say, thank you so much for giving this fic a chance anyway. I really appreciate it. A big thank you, also, to all of my most devout supporters, who have left so many kind reviews! You guys are amazing! This fic really wouldn't be where it is without you. (In fact, it would probably be sitting unfinished on my computer at around chapter five. O.O)_

_**Coming Up Next:** Echizen confronts one of his friends and reveals his own conflicted state of mind about recent events. Meanwhile, a most unfortunate thing has happened, one that may cause history to repeat itself and prevent the Regulars' happiness for good…_


	23. Chapter 23: Fire Cannot Melt

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Fire Cannot Melt**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… despite all of my begging, pleading, kicking and screaming. XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twenty-three! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers will be sucked into the black hole that is "Tezuka Zone." **Lol.

Here it is! Chapter twenty-three! Whew... -wipes forehead- We're nearing the end, aren't we? This chapter is, again, for all you faithful readers out there. It's especially for all my reviewers, who continue to shock, astonish, and touch me deeply. Thank you so much, everyone! Please, enjoy! **And let me know what you all think of chapter twenty-three!**

* * *

_There are some things that you should never, ever say._

_There are some things that should never, ever change._

_But in this moment, standing on the edge of this cliff…_

_I want to jump… right into your arms._

_This is the secret that fire cannot melt from me._

…

The sun had already risen, shining in the sky like glowing gold. It was a beautiful summer morning, the kind that could tug at a person's heartstrings and make him truly believe that everything was perfect. But for one person in Tokyo at least, the morning wasn't perfect at all. It should have been, but it wasn't. Despite the sun, despite the bright blue sky, despite the dreamlike night that had come before it, that morning couldn't be perfect for him.

No, for Fuji Shusuke, the world may as well have been covered with a cloud.

He had forgotten, of course. Every single time he found himself wrapped up in Tezuka's arms, he forgot. That was the real reason why he needed Tezuka. Tezuka helped him forget the things he couldn't bear to think about. And sure enough, last night, he had completely forgotten.

But Tezuka had already left to go find something for breakfast. And so now, alone in the hotel room, Fuji remembered.

Fuji remembered why he had wanted to die. Why he had nearly jumped. It was even worse now, the feeling that he wasn't brave enough to live, worse with the knowledge that Tezuka loved him. That reality only increased his guilt a hundred fold.

That was right. His guilt.

Fuji knew that he had trapped Tezuka into loving him. No matter what the former captain might say, their relationship was still… It was still so _twisted_. Fuji had forced Tezuka into following him to Europe, using every ounce of power that the man had unconsciously given him, even driving him to a botched suicide attempt. Tezuka would carry those scars for the rest of his life. And it was all because of Fuji.

_It's obvious, why it came to this._

Fuji grimaced, painfully aware of what he had done.

_A god can't really love a fallen angel, after all._

Sitting at the desk in the hotel room, Fuji buried his head in his hands, trying to ignore the malicious whispers that were lingering in his mind. He didn't want to hear those voices, not now. Whenever he listened to them, he always found himself regretting it. And yet… he couldn't stand it…

He couldn't stand the thought of what he had done. He had ruined Tezuka. Worse yet, he knew that Ryoma had not escaped unharmed, either… He couldn't have, not with that look Fuji had seen in those innocent golden eyes, whenever Ryoma looked at the former captain lately…

It was strange. Fuji hadn't regretted what he had done, until now. Up until the night before, he had always carried out his warped plan without a second thought, making every effort to insure that it would succeed. Now, though, now that he knew Tezuka was his for the taking, now that he was assured of his own power over the man who had held so much power over him…

… Now the tensai repented his unforgivable sin.

_But it's too late for that. Why should I be forgiven? And they know, now. They know how black my soul is. I was too careless. I let my motives show, and they saw the truth…_

… _They saw the real me._

Fuji was too horrified to notice the hotel door open and shut behind him. His head was still buried in his hands, still hiding his face from view, and he didn't look up.

"Fuji-senpai."

Suddenly, Fuji's eyes widened, and his head shot up in disbelief. Sure enough, there was the teenage tennis star, standing right next to his chair, and looking…

Looking worried? _Why would he…?_

"What do you want?" Fuji whispered, unable to keep from sounding suspicious.

"I ran into Tezuka-buchou down in the lobby," Ryoma explained, very quietly. There was something in those eyes that made Fuji feel even worse. "I asked him if I could come see you, so he lent me his room key."

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Fuji stood up and walked away. He abruptly stopped next to the window, with his back to the tennis star.

"You asked to come see me? I don't see why," the tensai said lightly, with a strange chuckle, as though something amused him.

Ryoma's eyes were fixed on Fuji's back, and if the tensai would have bothered to look, he would have noticed that the boy looked unusually tired.

"I just wanted to see if you were alright," Ryoma finally explained, still speaking very softly.

Fuji decidedly frowned at that response.

"Why wouldn't I be alright?" he demanded stubbornly. "Unless Tezuka told you something that he shouldn't have…"

"Buchou didn't say anything," Ryoma calmly interrupted. "But last night… Well, I was worried. About you, Fuji-senpai."

Again, Fuji laughed, almost bitterly this time.

"Worried about me?" he repeated, still not looking at Ryoma. "Why would you be worried about me?"

The tennis star didn't answer, much to Fuji's discomfort.

"You don't have any reason to be worried about me. I'm perfectly fine. Aren't _you_ the victim, after all?" Fuji continued, without a hint of remorse.

Still, Ryoma said nothing, and Fuji could feel his frustration growing with every passing second. He whipped around suddenly, glaring right at Ryoma.

"Don't you get it, Echizen?" he demanded coldly, his eyes gleaming like ice. "I took your precious Tezuka-buchou from you. Aren't you angry? Don't you hate me? You should be furious at me, not worried for m---"

The tensai was stopped in mid-sentence by a firm _SMACK!_ right across his face.

Fuji cringed in pain, staring up in shock at Ryoma, whose arm was still extended from the slapping motion. The boy stood completely still, but those golden eyes seemed to be trembling with some kind of repressed emotion.

There was nothing but silence for a moment, until Ryoma finally spoke.

"Stop it, Fuji-senpai," he said, voice shaking. "Just stop it."

The tensai was still completely frozen, from the surprise of being slapped by Ryoma, of all people. He couldn't find a single word to say in response. Ryoma, however, continued to speak, looking down at Fuji with an unreadable expression.

"I'm not angry, Fuji-senpai. I told Tezuka-buchou to go to you," he said, as firmly as he could.

Fuji's lower jaw dropped slightly in astonishment. For the first time, he could see it… In Ryoma's eyes, there was absolutely no bitterness toward him. None at all.

"Why?" he murmured, still taken aback.

"Because I could never hate you, Fuji-senpai." Ryoma was actually trembling now, Fuji noticed with remorse. "I want you to be happy. I want you and Buchou to be happy together. And so…"

Fuji felt his own heart speed up, at the emotion in those golden eyes.

"And so you had better make him happy, Fuji-senpai!" the boy cried, painfully. His hands were clenched at his side, shaking slightly with the tension.

"Echizen," Fuji whispered, but it was so soft that the tennis star didn't hear it.

"You had better make him happy, because if you don't, then… Then, I think I _will_ hate you. He gave up everything for you, Fuji-senpai. He gave up his arm…" Ryoma's determined voice lowered nearly to a whisper.

"He chose you over tennis, Fuji-senpai," he said, barely audible now. "He… He chose you over _me_."

For nearly a minute, the two just stood there, staring painfully into each other's eyes. The repressed emotion was paralyzing.

"He chose you, so you better make him the happiest man in the world!" Ryoma finished, loudly this time. "Or I'll never forgive you!"

The room fell silent, and in that moment, the tensai felt something like relief, coupled with regret, as it flooded his whole being. He started to tremble himself, and he suddenly fell to his knees. Before he knew it, the tears were streaming down his face.

"You… you are too good to me, Echizen," he sputtered. "But you don't understand. I can't… I can't do what you're asking!"

Ryoma took a deep breath, trying to relax, trying to will the fire out of his eyes. And he kneeled, too, trying to look the tensai in the face.

"What are you saying, Fuji-senpai?" he asked, as gently as he could manage.

"I can't… Make him happy… I…" Fuji tried to gasp out his reply, through the tears. "I'm not good enough for him… He's… He's _perfect_… and I'm not…"

Ryoma frowned at that, and a spark ignited in those golden irises once more.

"Fuji-senpai… Listen to me."

He gently reached out and grasped the tensai's shoulder, causing Fuji to look up and meet the boy's gaze.

"Tezuka-buchou is not perfect. He's a man, and he has his flaws, just like anyone." Ryoma stopped speaking for a moment, as he looked very significantly at Fuji. "And right now, he's a man who cares for no one more than the angel he chose to keep by his side."

Fuji was very still, listening. But the sorrow didn't leave his eyes.

"Maybe so, but surely you understand… You thought he was perfect, too. Didn't you?" Fuji quickly wiped the tears away from his eyes, looking expectantly at Ryoma, waiting for a reply.

For a moment, Ryoma didn't answer. But then, he sighed.

"You're right… I did think so once," he admitted quietly. "That was my foolish mistake. But then I saw that even Tezuka-buchou had a fatal flaw."

Fuji met Ryoma's stare, with a puzzled expression.

"You're his flaw, Fuji-senpai. You're his weakness," explained Ryoma firmly, but gently. "You're everything to him now. You can break his heart, or make him the happiest man alive. So don't abuse that power anymore. That is my request of you, Fuji-senpai."

With that, Ryoma stood up again, holding out a hand to his former teammate. Hesitantly, the tensai took the boy's hand, letting the tennis star lift him back to his feet. And as he gazed into those golden eyes, he was once again filled with a pang of regret.

"Echizen, can you ever forgive me?" he murmured, so softly that Ryoma almost didn't hear him.

For a moment, Ryoma was quiet. And then he answered.

"There's nothing to forgive." He smiled slightly, but his own eyes grew remorseful. "The better question is whether you can forgive me, Fuji-senpai. Am I still a disappointment?"

…

"_You're nothing but a disappointment."_

…

A lump started to form in the tensai's throat, as he insistently shook his head. "No, Echizen… You are not a disappointment… you're…"

But Fuji couldn't finish his sentence. He was too overcome.

Just when he had been the most certain of his own fall, he found himself flying again… Flying with the strength of two pillars who loved him, loved him against reason…

He couldn't even begin to understand it.

"Then everything will be alright, Fuji-senpai. But I should return this to you."

Fuji was confused by Ryoma's reply, until the boy suddenly leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, on that place on his cheek, right next to the corner of his mouth.

Fuji's eyes were wide with disbelief.

Quietly, Ryoma turned around and began to walk toward the door. The tensai watched every step, and something stirred in his heart then. He remembered something that he had nearly forgotten.

"Echizen," he called out suddenly, causing the boy to stop in his tracks.

"Yes, Fuji-senpai?" Ryoma turned for a moment, looking back into the tensai's sky blue eyes.

"Echizen… that is…" Fuji found himself trailing off for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then he frowned slightly, as a resolved expression appeared on his face.

"Echizen, who is it that you love?"

Ryoma blinked, standing very still for a moment.

"Who do I love?" he repeated slowly. Fuji nodded.

Ryoma turned away from the tensai again, staring intently at the door in front of him. There was a slight frown on his lips, as his eyes grew thoughtful.

"I love all of you," he finally replied, taking the last few steps toward the door and turning the knob. "See you later, Fuji-senpai."

The tensai watched, as the tennis star walked out into the hall and closed the door gently behind him.

_That's so like a pillar, Echizen. But you…_

_Do you have any idea who loves you more than anyone?_

Fuji's sky blue eyes were fixed on the floor.

"He wants us all to be happy," Fuji whispered to himself. "But what about him? Who will make _him_ happy?"

…

"_Maybe they were just teaching us how to fly."_

…

Fuji glanced toward the window, at the perfect sunshine that streamed through the glass. And for the first time in many years, he felt as though he wanted to hope again. He wanted to hope, for the sake of two people he knew very well, who had ultimately forsaken their own happiness in favor of their friends' needs.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"_Game, set, match! Won by Oishi-Kikumaru pair!"_

_Eiji jumped up and down from sheer excitement. No matter how many times he had heard those words before, he couldn't contain his elation at winning yet another tennis match. Especially his elation at winning another tennis match with his favorite partner, Oishi Shuichiroh, the other half of the Golden Pair._

_He turned to face his best friend, who was smiling at him like always. Even though Oishi had a different way of showing it, Eiji could see that his partner was as excited as he was._

_And for whatever reason, caught up in the moment, Eiji found himself bounding up to Oishi and throwing his arms around his partner, in an enthusiastic hug._

_He thought nothing of it, of the pleasant feeling that came over him as he hugged his best friend in the whole world. To him, it just seemed natural… To love playing doubles with Oishi, who was his closest companion. To be excited when they, the Golden Pair, won yet another match against a worthy opponent. And to want to be close to him, to feel that closeness by wrapping his arms around his favorite doubles partner, in excitement at their win._

_But as he released his friend from his impetuous embrace, he was suddenly aware that there was something not quite natural about what he had done._

_He couldn't understand why, but there was a distinct blush on the taller boy's cheeks. A blush, coupled with a definite frown._

_It was the first time that Eiji realized that he couldn't read the emotion in his partner's eyes._

_He didn't know it then, but it was the first sign that their beloved Golden Pair had started to shatter._

…

Eiji was sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly into space, listening as the seconds ticked by on the wall clock mounted somewhere above his head. He had been flipping through the newspaper, something he occasionally read as a method for relieving his own boredom, and sipping a glass of milk. He never had coffee for breakfast, even if that was considered a more mature beverage of choice in the mornings. Somehow, he had never liked the stuff, and he didn't feel particularly compelled to change his preference, either.

The glass of milk and the newspaper, however, had both been forgotten for quite some time, as the redhead rested his chin in both hands and stared thoughtfully into space.

Once again, he felt his mind wandering back to the previous night, continually replaying that scene in his mind…

…

"_I love you."_

…

Feeling his heart speed up once again at the mere recollection, he tried to shake himself out of his current train of thought. It didn't do any good to think about it, after all… Not when thinking about it only made his mind run in circles, racing through an endless string of incoherent emotions…

"Ugh," he muttered, rubbing his forehead in frustration. Why did the whole thing have to be so confusing? He had hardly slept the night before. It was just Oishi, after all… It was Oishi, and…

Well, that was the problem. It was Oishi.

No matter how Eiji looked at it, he couldn't stand the thought of hurting Oishi. He really cared about him; he knew that much. He had always relied on Oishi, as his dearest friend…Oishi meant a lot to him, and he didn't want to lose him again, not after all that had happened, but…

…

"_Eiji-senpai, how do you feel about Oishi-senpai?"_

…

"How do I feel?" Eiji murmured under his breath, frowning.

…

"_I love you."_

…

"I don't know how I feel!" he exclaimed in aggravation, laying his head down on the hard table with a slight _thud_. He sat there like that for a full minute, trying to will the frustration away, trying to ignore the jumble of emotions in his heart that refused to sort themselves out, no matter how hard he tried.

Much to his surprise, the silence was broken by a sudden "Meow!"

Eiji looked up, only to feel a tickle against his leg and find the familiar white kitten nuzzling against his ankle.

"Shuuko-chan?" he said, slightly confused. "What is it? You finished your breakfast?"

"Meow!" the tiny cat repeated, tugging slightly on Eiji's sock with its teeth.

Sighing, Eiji reluctantly got up from the table. "Don't tell me you want more. I think we're almost out of milk…"

But before he could even make a move for the refrigerator, the cat darted through the kitchen doorway. Eiji frowned, confused.

"Shuuko-chan? Where are you going?" He found himself following the kitten toward the side passageway. "You're acting so weird…"

He watched as the kitten slipped through the cracked bedroom door. Very quietly, the redhead pushed the door open, sneaking noiselessly inside like the cat before him.

"Shuuko-chan?" he whispered, trying to see where the kitten had gone.

Much to his confusion, there was Shuuko-chan, curled up comfortably on Eiji's bed. On Eiji's bed, which happened to be the one in which Oishi was currently sleeping.

With a slight blush creeping into his cheeks, Eiji took a few silent steps toward the bed, eyes fixed on Oishi's sleeping form. He had intended to try to remove the cat from the bed, in order to keep it from bothering his former partner, but he forgot all about that task as he came closer. Instead, he found himself staring at Oishi's face, at his calm, peaceful expression as he slept, at the way his chest moved slightly with each soft breath…

Eiji kneeled next to the bed, resting his elbows on the edge, as he watched his former partner sleep. And as he did so, that familiar voice echoed inside his head…

…

"_I love you."_

…

Suddenly, all the muddled thoughts vanished from Eiji's mind. Suddenly, his own feelings seemed so simple, so easy to understand…

Suddenly, he found himself leaning forward, and kissing his former partner, Oishi Shuichiroh, gently and lovingly on the lips.

Eiji had kissed plenty of girls before. He would even brag that he had quite a bit of experience, that all his girlfriends thought he was a good kisser. It was a gesture, though, that had become rather meaningless for him over the past two years. You could be the best kisser in the world, Eiji thought, and girls would still break up with you. Your lips over theirs wouldn't keep them from leaving you eventually, no matter how hard you tried. And so kissing didn't mean much to Eiji.

It didn't, and so he was shocked to discover how perfect this kiss felt.

He was shocked, but he finally understood…

…

"_There's no one that's right for me."_

…

That was a lie.

Eiji's lips fit perfectly over Oishi's mouth. It was as though his lips had been made for Oishi, just to kiss him, and him only. And Oishi's lips against Eiji's… Eiji couldn't help feeling like those had been made just for him to kiss, just for him alone.

Oishi was perfect for him. And he was perfect for Oishi.

… Why had he never realized it before?

As Eiji's thoughts started going a mile a minute, his former partner began stirring in his sleep. Suddenly, Eiji found himself staring right into Oishi's green eyes, and the feeling that came over him as he looked into those eyes took his breath away.

Was this how he would have felt, looking into those eyes, if he had known all along about the love in that man's gentle gaze? If distance hadn't come between them, if Oishi hadn't been silent… Would he have realized it sooner?

"Eiji?" Oishi murmured, looking almost confused. "What are you---?"

But Eiji just shook his head, as another blush swept over his cheeks.

"Oishi, I…" His voice was caught in his throat. Why was it so hard to say?

The former vice captain sat up in bed, still somewhat bewildered at the look in the redhead's face. What was Eiji trying to say?

For a split second, even in his embarrassment, Eiji managed to glance back at Oishi, and their eyes met. And then they both knew. At the exact same time, they knew without a doubt…

Everything would be alright now.

"I love you too, Oishi," Eiji whispered, eyes wide at his own confession.

For a moment, Oishi looked as though he hadn't heard it, or maybe as though he didn't believe it. But then he smiled, a genuine smile, full of relief and of ecstasy all at once…

Eiji absolutely melted into his partner's arms.

"I love you!" he cried passionately, a lump rising in his throat. "I was stupid, and I didn't know… I guess I just didn't see it, but… but all along, I…"

But Eiji couldn't continue. He was too overcome.

"Eiji," was all Oishi said in reply, with all the adoration in his heart, as he held the redhead tightly in his arms. And in his happiness, he forgot. He forgot to be surprised, at how perfectly Eiji fit into his arms, at how natural it felt to embrace him, despite the years that had passed, despite what had come between them…

It didn't matter, after all. They were the Golden Pair.

And now, they were perfect.

Together.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Echizen Ryoma should have known from the start that this was a very bad idea.

Bolting across a crowded street in the middle of a traffic jam, he weaved in and out of the cars, darting into a side alley and making his way toward the avenue on the other end. Without even thinking, he waved frantically at a taxi cab that had just pulled up to the curb. Faster than lightning, he yanked the door open and threw himself inside the car.

"Hey, mister, sorry, but I'm on break," the cab driver attempted to protest, until Ryoma interrupted him.

"I'll pay you 100,000 yen, if you step on it _now_." (1)

Without even so much as a nod, the driver hit the accelerator and veered back into the crowded street, earning several indignant honks from the neighboring cars. Showing an impressive skill for maneuvering, the driver began rapidly changing lanes to circumvent the traffic. Before Ryoma even remembered to breathe a sigh of relief, he found himself being interrogated by the cab driver.

"That was quite a crowd following you, mister. From the looks of all those cameras, you must be some hotshot celebrity, eh?" The man glanced back at Ryoma, with one of those friendly, crinkled faces that had a distinctly good-natured appearance.

"Something like that," Ryoma managed, still trying to catch his breath. He noticed the driver giving him a long look in the rearview mirror, those keen black eyes carefully examining his face.

"I think I've seen you before," the driver confessed after a moment. "But I can't quite place you…"

"Echizen Ryoma," the boy offered helpfully, gasping slightly.

"Ah, now I remember! You're that tennis star everyone keeps talking about. Well, well, this is unexpected. So where am I taking you, Echizen-san?" the older man asked, as casually as if he weren't weaving in and out of traffic on a crowded Tokyo street and causing subsequent havoc.

"Take me to Central, please… The apartment complex at number 904," Ryoma replied, as steadily as he could.

"Will do, sir."

Ryoma leaned back in the seat, glancing back only once, to see if he had finally eluded his pursuers. It seemed so, and he relaxed, as though the weight of an entire planet had been lifted off of his shoulders. He had been letting his guard down lately, but it had been the first time that week that he had been given cause to regret it.

Like a simpleton, he had gone out for a walk that morning, after confronting Fuji and returning the room key to Tezuka. Even worse, he hadn't thought to remove his trademark cap or wear anything less conspicuous, which he usually did when he went out in public. And so, as soon as he'd stepped outside of the hotel, he'd been absolutely flooded with reporters. And while he was mentally beating himself up for his own blunders, he couldn't help realizing that those mistakes weren't the only thing to blame.

No, he'd clearly been outed. Someone had figured out that Echizen Ryoma was in Japan. And now all the reporters were searching for him.

_Just great. That's exactly what I need right now…_

Ryoma frowned, crossing his arms and staring into space.

_I hope they haven't been following me these past few days…_

_The last thing I want is for them to be dragged into this._

Ryoma frowned, as the world flew by outside the car windows. It hadn't really been difficult to elude the dozen or so reporters that had chased after him. But now that they'd actually seen him at the hotel, there would be more by the time he got back. And then there would be endless questions and photographs, and with every piece of incriminating evidence that Echizen Ryoma really was in Japan, the number of pursuers would grow until the deluge of interview requests became absolutely unbearable…

To Ryoma's surprise, the taxi cab lurched to a firm stop, much sooner than he would have dreamed possible.

"We're here, sir," the cab driver said amiably.

"Thank you," Ryoma answered, reaching into his pocket and thumbing through his wallet for a moment. "Here you go."

After handing the man a few bills of paper money, he climbed out of the car and shut the door firmly behind him.

The man watched him leave for a split second, and then looked down at the bills in his hands. His eyes grew wide with surprise.

"How much money does that kid keep on him?" he muttered in disbelief. "Good grief."

- - - - - - - - - -

It really was a beautiful day outside. It was the kind of day that made a person want to lie in the sunshine and stare up at the clouds. At the moment, however, three young men were comfortably situated inside a diner, observing the pleasant weather through a barrier of a glass.

"I wonder where Ryoma-kun went?" Kachiro asked suddenly, gazing thoughtfully at the busy street outside.

Katsuo glanced up from his menu long enough to ask, "You mean last night?"

Kachiro nodded in reply, causing Horio to frown, as if in preparation for deep contemplation.

"Well, if it's Echizen…" The teenager trailed off for a moment and then sighed. "Impossible to tell."

Katsuo just sighed. "You're a real help as always, Horio-kun."

Kachiro stared through the window for a moment longer, watching the way the pedestrians ambled along on the sidewalk.

"I wonder if Ryoma-kun understood what we were trying to tell him?" he wondered aloud after a moment.

At that, both Katsuo and Horio grew quiet, as if remembering the conversation that had occurred the previous night.

…

"_That frown of his was unbreakable… But I think that a person with an unbreakable smile must be even stronger."_

…

Kachiro smiled slightly, but there was a hint of remorse in it.

"You know, I hoped Ryoma-kun would realize, even though we didn't mention it…" Kachiro glanced back at his companions for a moment, as he left the sentence unfinished.

"That he was the only one who could break the unbreakable?" Katsuo finished helpfully, looking very seriously at his friend.

"Exactly," Kachiro agreed quietly, remembering a time when a young tennis prodigy had left Japan to enter the U.S. Open and shock the world with his talent.

He couldn't help remembering…

Tezuka, the stoic captain of Seigaku, had sent him off with a bittersweet smile.

Momo, everyone's favorite happy-go-lucky powerhouse, had cried. (2)

"Somehow, I couldn't quite say it, but that's what I wish Ryoma-kun understood," Kachiro finished softly. "The senpais really care about him."

"You're right about that," Horio agreed decidedly. "Even Echizen has to figure it out eventually."

"I think he will," Katsuo added, with a slight nod of his head. "And if it's Ryoma-kun, after all…"

"Well, it will be alright, won't it?"

At that, the three friends smiled, thinking of days gone by, when a dark-haired boy in a white cap had consistently defied the odds and carried their favorite tennis team to victory.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Ryoma had to admit it. He was just a little bit confused.

This wasn't to say that he was unhappy with the situation. He was glad that he had been welcomed into Eiji's apartment with an unusual amount of hospitality. And even though he had no idea why they were there, he didn't mind that Kaidoh and Inui had suddenly appeared for a visit, despite the fact that the apartment's three current residents made the place feel crowded enough. And of course he was glad to find that the old rift between Eiji and Oishi seemed to have healed completely, if the loving glances the two kept giving each other were any indication.

No, he was happy… But he got the distinct feeling that he had missed something.

Of course, he knew there was a high likelihood that Oishi had confessed his feelings for Eiji the previous night. But he hadn't expected their relationship to move along so quickly. Even outside of the Golden Pair's sudden change in behavior, however, Ryoma was instinctively conscious of something new in the air, something between them all that remained unspoken. Something that was different now. … But what could that be?

In an unconscious effort to make up for this gap in his knowledge, Ryoma found himself observing his former teammates more closely than usual that afternoon. Still, despite his watchfulness, he couldn't detect anything that he hadn't noticed before. At least, not until Eiji started preparing to make dinner, by which point the sun was already setting.

"So, who's going to help me?" Eiji asked cheerfully, making his way toward the kitchen.

"I'll help you, Eiji," Oishi offered, almost pleading for consent with his eyes. He had been feeling particularly restless ever since that morning, but Eiji had insisted that he stay on the couch for most of the day.

Eiji looked at him intently for a moment, and then sighed. "Alright, you can help, but you better not push yourself."

At that, Oishi began walking toward the kitchen as well, only to be followed by a grinning Inui.

"I can help with the beverages, Kikumaru."

"You can help, but NOT with the drinks!" came Eiji's decided answer as he disappeared from view. Inui sighed at that, but he followed Oishi into the kitchen anyway.

Ryoma suddenly found himself alone in the living room, with only Momo and Kaidoh there with him. Both of his former teammates were strangely silent, Ryoma noted. But before he could take a good look at either of them, Momo stood up and stretched a little.

"I'll be right back," he said, almost offhandedly, as he vanished into the side hallway.

Ryoma frowned for a split second. When it came to Momo in particular lately, Ryoma had a distinct feeling that he was missing something. He was acting strange… almost distant, now that Ryoma thought about it… But why would that be?

He would have considered the thought longer, but a stray glance at Kaidoh changed the course of his thoughts completely.

Instead of looking at the television, or inside the room, or maybe at the side passageway… Kaidoh was staring toward the kitchen.

It would have completely escaped Ryoma's notice, except that the look on his former teammate's face distinctly reminded him of something.

Another look… a look that he had seen before…

… What was it?

"Kaidoh-senpai," Ryoma said suddenly, startling the snakelike teenager out of his trance.

"What is it, Echizen?" came the gruff reply.

"It's…" Ryoma faltered, realizing that he didn't know exactly what he wanted to say. "Um… it's nothing. Except… I never did thank you, you know."

"Thank me?" Kaidoh repeated, looking distinctly confused.

"For the other day," Ryoma explained simply, gazing intently at his senpai. "When you carried me back here."

There was a pause, as Kaidoh averted his eyes. "Oh, that. Don't mention it."

Ryoma smiled. Somehow, he couldn't help thinking that Kaidoh hadn't changed at all. He was still the same… Rock hard on the outside, but a warm person underneath, if you knew where to look.

"So, you and Inui-senpai live together in Kyushu, right?" Ryoma noted offhandedly. He suddenly realized that he'd hardly talked to this particular senpai, that he really had no idea what he had been doing for the past five years…

"Yes," was Kaidoh's monosyllabic answer. That blunt reply was to be expected from the snakelike teenager, of course.

What Ryoma hadn't expected was that slight flush that came into Kaidoh's cheeks.

Suddenly, he remembered where he had seen that look before.

"Kaidoh-senpai, are you…?"

But Ryoma couldn't finish.

Of course. Why hadn't he noticed before? Why had the thought never even occurred to him? When his former classmates had told him that Inui and Kaidoh were rooming together, he had been comforted by that fact. After all, to him, it sounded like something they both would do. But the more that Ryoma thought about it, the more he realized…

He had missed something. There was something else there. There was more to it than that.

Kaidoh looked quizzically at Ryoma, who hadn't said a thing since he'd stopped in the middle of his sentence.

"What is it, Echizen?"

Ryoma looked his senpai in the eyes, just for a second longer, and then he threw caution to the wind.

"Kaidoh-senpai, are you and Inui-senpai in love?" he asked.

…

"_Say, Kaidoh, I have an offer to make you. How about coming to room with me during college?"_

…

Kaidoh's eyes opened wide, as he fully comprehended Ryoma's question. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, he almost couldn't believe what he'd heard. And yet, there was their former prodigy, looking at Kaidoh with an understanding expression in his eyes.

Kaidoh had no idea how Ryoma had guessed so close to the truth. But he had. And now… What should he say, to this boy who had identified his secret so quickly?

"You're mistaken, Echizen," he managed at last, somewhat huskily. "It's not like that."

Ryoma sat there in silence for a moment, thinking about this.

"Then what's it like?" he asked, looking back at his senpai.

Kaidoh was taken aback. He had never said anything like this aloud… In fact, he had sworn to never let this truth leave his own lips. But with those golden eyes looking at him like that, he felt as though he had to say it. He had to explain, even if it was something he had vowed to never confess…

"You… you're half-right, Echizen," Kaidoh managed at last, hissing in discomfort. "I feel that way about him. But Inui-senpai… I don't think Inui-senpai feels the same way."

"Why do you say that?" Ryoma couldn't help asking. It seemed strange to him, that Kaidoh and Inui were so close, and yet their current relationship involved unrequited love on at least one side. If that was the case, then why had they lived together for so long?

"Because it has to be true," Kaidoh muttered, his voice growing lower with each passing second. "He's never said anything about it… Even though he must know how I feel by now."

There was another pause, as Ryoma considered this.

"It would be strange, for Inui-senpai to notice and not say anything," admitted Ryoma after a split second. "But are you sure that he noticed? Maybe you need to tell him."

"That's ridiculous!" Kaidoh sputtered suddenly, blushing from embarrassment. "You know Inui-senpai. He takes data on everything, and…"

For a moment, Kaidoh bit his lip in frustration. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued.

"Inui-senpai knows practically everything about other people. If he doesn't know about this, then he doesn't want to know. And if he does… If he does know, then he hasn't said anything," Kaidoh finished, glaring at the floor in front of his feet.

The silence that followed hung in the air for a moment. Ryoma let himself drift, letting the quiet focus his thoughts. And then suddenly, he stood up, standing right in front of Kaidoh and looking into the snakelike player's eyes.

"Kaidoh-senpai, you should still tell him," he said firmly. "It's a risk, but Inui-senpai wouldn't hurt you. And even though what you said is true…"

Ryoma let his words trail off for a moment, making sure that he had Kaidoh's full attention.

"What you said is true. Inui-senpai knows a lot about other people. But I think you're forgetting something, Kaidoh-senpai."

Kaidoh frowned, still staring intently into Ryoma's eyes.

"You forgot that even Inui-senpai has things he can't see. He may be near-sighted in real life, Kaidoh-senpai, but I'm sure that Inui-senpai is far-sighted when it comes to reading people's hearts…"

Ryoma leaned down to put a hand on Kaidoh's shoulder, coupled with a slight smile.

"He probably can't see the feelings of the person the closest to him. Because data can't predict the heart. Right?"

The tennis star looked into his former teammate's eyes for a moment longer, and then he stood up straight again. His hand fell back to his side, but the smile didn't leave his mouth.

"I know you'll be alright, Kaidoh-senpai," he concluded calmly.

Kaidoh wanted to respond, but at that exact moment, Ryoma's back pocket started to ring.

"Ah…! Um, excuse me, senpai," Ryoma apologized, slipping his cell phone out of his pocket. He glanced offhandedly at the caller ID as he walked over to the porch door. Quickly, he slid it open and headed outside, presumably to answer the incoming call.

Kaidoh watched him leave without a word, and then he hissed. "Fsssshhhhh…"

"He's right, you know."

The snakelike teenager's heart stood still, as he whirled around to see who had been listening. Sure enough, there was his rival, leaning against a doorpost and smirking at him.

"So are you going to take his advice?" Momo prodded, meeting Kaidoh's unamused glare with a slight chuckle.

"Maybe," came the gruff answer. "What's it to you, idiot?"

Momo just shrugged at that, still leaning against the wall. But Kaidoh noticed that those dark eyes had grown thoughtful, as they glanced toward the porch door.

"What about you?" Kaidoh asked suddenly, refocusing the attention of his rival back to him.

"What about me?" the power player asked, frowning slightly.

"Are _you_ going to take Echizen's advice?" Kaidoh stared intently at his former teammate, watching the way those purple eyes widened slightly for a moment.

"That's none of your business, Viper," came the flippant response, as Momo shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "Anyway, I'm going to go see who called him."

Kaidoh's eyes followed his rival's every step, as the power player walked across the living room and slipped open the glass sliding door. And as the panel shut behind him, Kaidoh let the tiniest, most invisible hint of a smile appear in one corner of his mouth.

"Good luck, you idiot."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I can't believe you're asking this of me," Ryoma said in disbelief, holding the phone firmly against his ear. His eyes stared straight ahead, but he barely comprehended the beautiful cityscape spread before him.

He listened in resignation for a moment, but the frown on his face declared his disgust.

"I don't care, Mr. Davis. I don't want to do this," he responded after a moment, sounding frustrated.

There was another pause as the voice on the other end spoke, and then Ryoma sighed.

"It's not like I have a choice, do I?" was his bitterly resigned reply. "Right. Of course not. Fine, I'll be there."

With an aggravated gesture, Ryoma jabbed the 'end call' button on the phone and clapped the receiver shut. Taking a deep breath, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and rested his elbows on the porch railing.

A stray glance up at the sky made him do a double take. He hadn't realized that it was twilight already. The first signs of night were appearing just above his head, as a light dusting of stars glittered dimly in the dark immensity of space.

As he gazed up at the stars, he felt his mind wander. He couldn't help thinking about everything that had happened since he'd returned to Japan. It hadn't been what he'd expected… In fact, it had been one surprise after another…

But he didn't regret it. Despite the pain that had come with facing some of the truths of the past, he didn't regret it for a second.

And so Ryoma couldn't help wondering why he suddenly felt so empty.

As he stared up at those stars, those lone silvery soldiers, as they embraced the darkness of the falling night…

Why did he feel so alone?

…

"_Echizen, who is it that you love?"_

…

Ryoma leaned his head against his hand, almost pensively.

…

"_I love all of you."_

…

His eyes wandered away from the sky, returning to the shimmering cityscape in front of him. He could see the distant lights from downtown Tokyo, lights that were so bright that they cast a faint glow on the sky above them. The wind was picking up, he noticed, as it ruffled his hair and blew warmly across his bare arms.

Suddenly, a slight noise sounded behind him. He turned to see Momoshiro, who was closing the sliding door.

"Oh, Momo-senpai, it's you," Ryoma observed casually, trying to shake himself out of his uncharacteristic reverie.

"Yeah, it's me," Momo cheerfully replied, in his usual way. "Who was that on the phone, Echizen?"

"On the phone?" Ryoma repeated, blinking. For a moment, he had actually forgotten about the phone call. "Oh, right. That was…"

All at once, those shining golden eyes dimmed.

"It was nobody, Momo-senpai," came the quiet response, as the tennis star turned back toward the railing.

"Ah, I see." Momo didn't even attempt to inquire further, taking a few steps nearer the railing himself. "What were you looking at?"

"Looking…?" Ryoma trailed off for a moment, and then he glanced up at the sky again. "Oh, I was just looking at the stars."

"Mm," was the power player's rather inarticulate response, as he looked up for himself. It had grown darker, but it wasn't quite night yet, and the shade of the sky was almost purple.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" observed Momo, after nearly a minute had gone by.

Ryoma nodded slowly, still transfixed.

Momo lowered his gaze again to the teenager standing in front of him. And since Ryoma's back was to his former teammate, the boy completely missed the emotion hidden in those dark eyes. If Ryoma had looked, though, he might have realized it for himself…

Momoshiro's eyes were like that night sky.

…

"_Echizen is perfect."_

…

"The stars _are_ beautiful," Momo repeated softly. "But if you watch them too long, it can get pretty lonely."

Ryoma thought about this for a moment. Something about that reply surprised him. It was as though his friend was saying one thing, when he actually meant something completely different…

But what else could he mean?

He was about to ask, when his voice caught in his throat.

As quietly as a whisper, two strong arms had wrapped around him from behind, locking Ryoma in the power player's warm embrace.

"I didn't know that you noticed things like the stars, Echizen," came that deep voice, somewhere above Ryoma's head.

For a moment, the tennis star was completely frozen. He couldn't move, or even say a single word. What was Momo _doing_?

He finally managed a reply. "I guess I don't… Most of the time…"

In the silence that followed, Ryoma found himself feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Something about the way Momo's arms were wrapped around him, there in the dark, with nothing between them…

Something about it was making his knees go weak.

And Echizen Ryoma wasn't weak.

He was willing his heartbeat to slow down to a more normal rate, trying to collect his thoughts, trying to calm down. After all, whatever Momo was doing, he probably didn't mean anything by it… Momo had always been like this, grabbing him without a moment's notice, doing strange things that caught Ryoma off guard…

… Hadn't he?

"Do _you_ notice things like the stars, Momo-senpai?" he finally asked, determined to sound perfectly normal. He attempted to refocus his attention back on the stars above his head, trying not to think about the way the back of his head was pressed against his former teammate's chest.

"I guess I do," Momo replied, in an almost subdued tone. "Maybe because they remind me of someone."

The night stood still, holding its breath.

"Who?" whispered Ryoma, barely audible.

At first, he thought that Momo hadn't heard him, so long was the pause that followed. But then his former teammate began to speak, and Ryoma could only listen, stunned.

"A certain boy I knew. He was a very talented tennis player… No matter who his opponent was, he always won. And I watched him go on to conquer the world."

"Momo-senpai," Ryoma breathed, still in shock.

Why had his heart stopped beating…?

…

"_When I first began to admire Momochan-buchou… You know what he kept saying? He kept saying 'I can't let him down. No, I can't let him down…'"_

…

"He never looked back, you know," Momo continued, his arms tightening around Ryoma for a split second. "But I didn't blame him for that. He deserved the chance to prove that he was the best. Even so, I made him promise me something…"

…

"_Promise me, Echizen. Promise me that you'll come back. … Promise me!"_

…

"He didn't do it right away, of course," Momo added softly. "But I never stopped believing that he would. I waited for five years for him to come back to Japan. And then, a funny thing happened…"

Ryoma's eyes were wide with anticipation.

Why… Why did he know what his friend was going to say…?

"I realized that I loved him."

For a moment, Ryoma was convinced that the sky had broken.

"I thought about telling him…" Suddenly, Ryoma noticed the way his senpai's voice was shaking, ever so slightly.

"I thought about telling him, but then I realized it would be like trying to catch a star."

Just before those strong arms released him, the voice concluded, "I could never reach high enough for that."

Ryoma felt as though time had stopped completely. Momo's voice, on the other hand, instantly changed, as though nothing had happened at all.

"You should come inside, Echizen," he said amiably, louder than he had been just a moment ago. "Dinner's probably ready."

Ryoma couldn't move, not even to watch as Momo slid the glass door open and shut it again behind him. And almost before his friend had disappeared inside the apartment, he felt his legs give way.

Echizen Ryoma fell to his knees.

He was too stunned to move. He just knelt there, feeling as though he was frozen for eternity, as though reality had vanished altogether and left him floating in space, with nothing left before his eyes except a vast, unknown stretch of darkness.

Above his head, the stars glittered, wrapped in the embrace of the deep purple sky.

**- end of chapter twenty-three -**

* * *

**Useless Footnotes:** (1) This is something like a thousand dollars. (2) The reference for these two statements is the last season of Prince of Tennis, episodes 178 and 171, respectively. Both actually happened, believe it or not. Lol. In the second case, however, I am implying that Kachiro saw something that he shouldn't have. Haha…

_A/N: Well, at least I finally finished it. O.O This chapter took me FOREVER to write. It's an extra long one, for starters, and several of the scenes in it gave me some trouble at first. Anyway, I'm glad I finally got to post it, even if I'm now behind on about a million things, including keeping on top of my e-mail account and my homework. Lol… Oh well. It was so worth it. XD_

_Ryoma: … What's worth it?_

_FallingSilver: Um… writing sappy romance scenes with cute guys?_

_Ryoma: Mada mada dane._

_Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it! I did my best, so hopefully it was worth the wait. Once again, I really have to thank my reviewers… It was your encouraging comments that gave me the strength to write this chapter. (It certainly was a long one, wasn't it? O.O Do you all remember what happened? Lol, I only ask because I definitely forgot by the time I finished! Hahaha…)_

_By the way, as for the next two chapters (the final two chapters! XD), they should both be posted sometime around this coming weekend. Yep, that's right! This story is almost over. (Is that a good thing or a bad thing? -laughs- Even I'm not sure.) Sorry to make you wait for the conclusion, but you will all be able to read the ending very soon. I hope it's just as enjoyable as the rest. I'll certainly be trying my hardest!_

_In the meantime, thanks so much for reading, and **please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-three!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** The Regulars discover that something has happened to Ryoma, something that they all dreaded. Meanwhile, Fuji pays Taka a visit, and Kaidoh has something to say to Inui…_


	24. Chapter 24: Hit or Miss

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Hit or Miss**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… except in my own personal fantasy world. Which, apparently, doesn't count. XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twenty-four! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ I force flamers to watch the entire PoT series with me over and over and ovvveerrrr. **Lol.

At long last, it's chapter twenty-four! This was a difficult chapter for me to write, but I hope you all enjoy it now that it's finished. Thank you so much for your patience during the wait… It's another long chapter, so hopefully that makes up for it. **Well, let me know what you all think of chapter twenty-four!**

* * *

_What is the worth of ambition? What is your dream?_

_Did you realize why you gave yourself away?_

_Or were you looking for something else?_

_Open your eyes. You have to make up your mind._

_Otherwise, it will be too late._

…

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Oishi glanced up from the television, surprised. He hadn't expected anyone to be visiting Eiji's apartment this early, unless it was Momo, who had mysteriously disappeared before dawn that morning. But Momo should have had a key…

Rising from the couch, he glanced toward the side hallway and smiled a little. Eiji still wasn't awake, and he knew for a fact that the redhead was tired. So there wasn't anyone to stop the former vice captain from answering the door himself.

Of all the people Oishi would have expected to find at the door, however, Tezuka was definitely last on the list. And yet, there he was at Eiji's door, all the same.

"Tezuka?" Oishi asked as he opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering right away, Tezuka bowed his head slightly and entered the apartment. Sparing a quick glance toward the living room, he then turned his gaze back to his former teammate and held something out to him. It was at that point that Oishi noticed that Tezuka was holding a newspaper.

"What's this?" he inquired, taking it from Tezuka's hands. But no sooner had the question left his mouth than it was answered with his own eyes, which instantly fell on the following headline…

**TENNIS STAR ECHIZEN RYOMA TO APPEAR IN TOKYO PRESS CONFERENCE TODAY!**

For a split second, Oishi felt his breath catch in his throat. But he quickly dismissed his own shock.

As he hastily skimmed the article, he addressed Tezuka once more. "Did Echizen say anything about this?"

The former captain shook his head. "He didn't say a word, at least not to me."

Oishi's eyes grew thoughtful as he scanned the print. The article had only scant information on the conference, barely mentioning an approximate time and place. It seemed as though the event had been scheduled in a hurry.

"It says here that Echizen is planning to return to America shortly after the conference," he noted quietly, pointing to the last paragraph of the story.

"I know." Tezuka's response was almost blank.

Oishi looked back up at his friend, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Did you try to call him?"

"I did." Tezuka sighed and began walking toward the living room. Oishi followed him.

"What did he say?" persisted Oishi, only to be interrupted by a correction from the former captain.

"I couldn't get ahold of him. I left a message, but he hasn't called back."

Oishi frowned. "That's odd…"

"No one else could get ahold of him either," Tezuka suddenly added. "I talked with Inui, but he said that Echizen's cell phone cut to his voice mail and that his hotel line never picked up."

The taller man sighed once more, sitting down almost wearily on the couch in the living room. Oishi just stood there, staring off into space, thinking about this.

"So what does that mean?" he wondered at last.

There was a pause, as Tezuka and Oishi glanced at each other.

"It means that he isn't saying goodbye."

- - - - - - - - -

_When was the last time I told you…?_

_I care about you more than I could ever say._

…

The inside of the Kawamura sushi shop was completely silent, when the sound of a door sliding open broke through the stillness. Taka glanced up from where he was arranging the knives, as he was getting ready for the day's work. He was expecting to see Kimiko standing in the doorway, paying him a visit before leaving for her part-time job, as she sometimes did.

Much to his surprise, though, his visitor wasn't Kimiko.

It was Fuji.

"Fuji, what are you doing here?" Taka quickly set the cooking utensils aside and started making his way toward the visitor.

"Please, don't stop your work on my account," Fuji interrupted, gesturing back toward the counter. "I know you're busy."

Obediently, Taka made his way back to the cutting board, but he shook his head even as he did so. "I'm not busy yet. There won't be any customers for a while now."

"That's true," Fuji assented faintly, the usual smile masking his face. He glanced around the shop for a moment, and then he slowly made his way up to the counter to sit on one of the stools.

"Is Kimiko-chan here today?" the tensai asked suddenly. Taka looked up in surprise, but Fuji's head was turned away from him.

"No, I didn't expect her today," Taka answered after a moment, very quietly.

There was a painful pause, as Taka picked up a knife and resumed his task of sharpening the blade. As for Fuji, he just started off into space.

It wasn't because the tensai didn't know what to say, however.

It was because there was too much to say.

…

_WHAM!_

_Fuji looked up at his friend, horrified. He was in complete shock. Of course, he had deserved this. He knew that. He had practically asked for it. He had hurt someone who hadn't done anything wrong. He had strung the girl along and then dropped her like a rock._

_Of course he deserved it._

_But Taka was the last person on earth that Fuji would have expected to deliver such a punishment._

_Taka was his friend. He was kind, too kind, even. He was sympathetic. No matter what Fuji did, Taka understood. Taka forgave him, even when he did something horrible without a single excuse... Even when he accidentally dropped his mask and let his own twisted face show through. Yes, even when Fuji was at his worst, Taka was always there for him._

_Not today, however. Today, Taka had hit Fuji right across the face, in an absolute rage._

_Fuji could see it now, of course. He could see what had been bothering his friend for months. He could see why, whenever Fuji would mention Hoshina Kimiko, Taka would look unusually concerned and inquire after the girl's well-being. He could see why Taka had always suggested that Fuji should be kinder to her._

_He could see why. Taka loved her._

_And as if the very floor had been pulled out from underneath him, Fuji Shusuke felt as though his own world had shattered._

_Suddenly, everything that Fuji wanted seemed more unreachable than ever. If a steady rock like Kawamura Takashi couldn't keep from falling, than what in the universe could?_

_In the blind wrath of that fist, Fuji realized that his own reality was already broken._

…

"You never forgave yourself, did you?" Fuji murmured suddenly, with his blue eyes open but downcast.

Taka looked up from his work in surprise, but his expression instantly fell.

"How could I, Fuji?" he replied, almost under his breath. "I hurt my dearest friend."

The tensai's eyes remained focused, almost too intensely, on the countertop in front of him.

"I deserved it, though," the tensai said at last.

But that statement lit a spark in the future sushi chef's eyes. He dropped his knife on the counter with a startling _clang!_ and walked straight over to where Fuji was sitting.

"Listen to me, Fuji," he began, very firmly. He bent over slightly, pressing his hand on top of Fuji's slender ones, which had been resting lightly on the counter. Searchingly, he gazed into those sky blue irises, trying to see behind them.

"Listen to me," he repeated. "You never deserved that. It was my mistake, and mine alone. What I did that day was not your fault."

Even as he spoke, the more Taka stared into those shining eyes, the more he realized that words weren't enough.

…

_Taka stared in horror at the ugly red mark that was already forming on Fuji's cheek. Of course, it hadn't been an accident. Taka had known all along what he was doing, and he had intended to hit Fuji, as hard as he could. And he had done it. When his fist had smashed firmly across that delicate cheekbone, Taka had felt a decided sense of satisfaction._

_But now, staring at that betrayed look in those blue eyes, Taka wished that he were dead._

_Of course he loved Hoshina Kimiko. She was a beautiful girl, someone that Taka had admired for two years straight. And she hadn't deserved the hell that Fuji had been serving her with a smile. No, it was unfair, and it was wrong, and it had been tearing at his heart for months…_

_But Fuji was his friend. He had always admired his former teammate. Even his newfound love for Kimiko was grounded in the realization that she reminded him of the tensai… _

_They were both beautiful, and they were both made of glass, even though they pretended to be as strong as iron._

_But still, Taka had been unable to ignore his feelings for Kimiko, even though he wanted to remain loyal to Fuji as his friend. It had been a burden on his mind for months. But suddenly, when he had heard that Fuji had dumped the girl as cruelly as he possibly could and told her to get out of his life…_

_Taka had snapped._

_The future sushi chef hadn't gone into his infamous 'Burning' mode for two years. Since he had given up his tennis racquet in his third year of junior high, he had no need of that legendary other half to his personality. But in that moment, when he first heard about what Fuji had done, his more aggressive side had suddenly exploded to the surface. And he had found Fuji and hit the much smaller man right across the face._

_In that moment, caught between his two sides, Taka felt it._

_In hitting Fuji, his split personality vanished. He would be unable to use it again. His two sides had come together into one coherent form, though that single action._

_In a strange way, maybe his wish to die had come true._

…

"You never deserved it," Taka insisted again, averting his eyes from the tensai's silent stare. "I just lost my self-control that day… And that's why I can't forgive myself."

Quietly, Fuji slipped one of his hands out from under Taka's gentle grasp. He set it back down on top of the taller man's hand, pressing his fingers lightly against it as he did so. For a moment, he gazed at their hands without a word.

But then, he looked back up at Taka, and his own eyes had a kind of spark in them.

"And yet, I forgive you. I always have," he said firmly. "The question is whether or not you can forgive me, Taka-san."

Taka looked almost startled for a moment, but then his face grew very serious.

"What do I have to forgive you for, Fujiko-chan?" (1)

The little nickname had left his mouth before he realized it, and he couldn't resist a slight smile. It had been a long time since he had called the tensai by that name.

Fuji even smiled for the memory's sake, but his blue eyes remained serious, even sorrowful.

"Could you ever forgive me for the way I treated her?" he said at last.

There was a moment of silence, but Taka then gave Fuji's hand a slight squeeze.

"It's not my place to forgive you for that," Taka explained calmly, looking at the tensai. "But if it were, of course I would forgive you. And I know that she forgives you as well."

Fuji smiled, not without a hint of pain.

"That's so like you. Both of you. You're too kind to me, you know," he murmured. After pausing for a moment, his eyes met Taka's once again.

"You always knew, didn't you?" he said very softly. For a moment, Taka looked confused, so Fuji quickly added, "About me. About my…"

Somehow, Fuji still couldn't quite bring himself to choke out the word 'illness.' But now Taka understood exactly what Fuji meant.

"I was never really sure," Taka answered, with a slight shake of his head. "You're impossible to read, you know… But when Kimiko-chan figured it out, she told me about it. And then, I finally knew why."

There was a painful moment of silence, as the faint shadows of unpleasant memories passed through their minds.

"I want you to know that I never blamed you for any of it," Taka said at last, with another hesitant smile. "She didn't either. And we both… We always wanted you to be happy, Fuji. That's all we want for you."

Taka watched as Fuji quickly closed his eyes shut, into his usual smiling expression. Except this time, the mask was to hide the tears that had started to form in those blue eyes.

"You are too kind," Fuji said again, barely louder than a whisper. But then he paused, as though thinking to himself, perhaps of someone else who was also too kind.

…

"_I want you to be happy. I want you and Buchou to be happy together…"_

"…_I want you to be happy, Fuji-senpai."_

…

"So you want me to be happy, hm?" the tensai murmured after a moment. He then stood up from his seat, with his fingers still pressed around Taka's hand.

Somewhat confused, Taka gave his friend an awkward nod, which made Fuji's smile get a little wider.

"I believe I can do that for you, Taka-san," Fuji confirmed, with his angelic voice sounding unusually determined. "I can be happy, for you, and for Kimiko-chan. For you both."

The tensai glanced down at their joined hands once again, and then he laughed a little.

"After all, it's high time that I start to live again, the way I used to live… For someone else, and not for myself."

His eyes opened again for a moment, still shining with tears. And in that instant, Taka saw something that he had never seen before in Fuji's eyes, something that took his breath away.

"You know," the tensai was murmuring. "I did think once… Taka-san, you and I always were…"

But Fuji never finished his sentence. Instead, he donned his smiling mask once more and looked back up at his former teammate.

"Well," he interrupted himself cheerfully. "There's no use for that now. And we will be happy, won't we?"

Just before Fuji pulled his hands away, Taka nodded once last time, with his warm smile.

"I hope we will, Fujiko-chan."

- - - - - - - - -

_Click. Click. Click click click. Click._

Kaidoh Kaoru wasn't the type of person to be annoyed by repetitive sounds. Unless the person who was making them was actually trying to be annoying, he couldn't have cared less. Besides, the constant rhythm of his roommate typing on his laptop was such a familiar cadence to his ears that he hardly noticed it anymore.

Well, usually he hardly noticed. For some reason, though, today it was really starting to grate on his nerves.

_Click. Click click. Click. Click!_

Silently, Kaidoh walked over to the miniature freezer, pulling out a bottle of water. Of course, he wouldn't even think of touching the soda cans in there, and he usually preferred to buy a specific brand of bottled water at the convenience store. At the moment, though, anything was a welcome distraction.

He walked back toward the nightstand, as he carefully screwed open the lid. As he came closer, he noticed the newspaper lying on the top of the table. Of course, he'd already read the headline earlier that morning, when his senpai had first discovered the news. But it still surprised him.

**TENNIS STAR ECHIZEN RYOMA TO APPEAR IN TOKYO PRESS CONFERENCE TODAY!**

"Do you really think he's leaving, senpai?" he asked suddenly, causing a momentary pause in the incessant clicking noise.

"Hard to say, Kaidoh," Inui replied after a split second. The data man didn't once look away from the computer screen.

"Aren't you going to run a diagnostic---" But Inui interrupted the snakelike teenager with a slight cough.

"As for that, I think I've proven to myself that it's useless to try to predict that sort of thing."

There was another moment of silence, and then the distinctly percussive sound resumed once again…

_Click click click! Click, click. Click. Click!_

"Besides, Echizen will do what he thinks is best for him," added Inui, as he continued to type. "We couldn't ask anything more of him than that."

Kaidoh was silent, thinking about this, trying to ignore the distracting rhythm of the keyboard. He sat down on the side of his bed, eyes still focused on the black newsprint.

_Click. Click click click. Click, click! Click._

Before Kaidoh even knew it, his eyes had wandered against their will, over to the desk where his roommate was sitting. He stared almost vacantly at the familiar curve of his senpai's cheekbone, the way his glasses rigidly framed his face and then tucked behind his ear, the subtle shape of that long neck…

Kaidoh frowned, willing himself to look away. He was always doing this. Staring at his senpai when he was sure that the data man wasn't looking… He really had to stop it, or someday it would certainly come back to haunt him. He could only imagine how awkward that moment would be…

…

"_Say, Kaidoh, I have an offer to make you. How about coming to room with me during college?"_

…

Firmly, Kaidoh set the water bottle down on the nightstand, staring intently at the way that the clear liquid glimmered behind the plastic.

When Inui had asked him to come live with him in Kyushu, of course Kaidoh had accepted the offer. He had always respected his senpai. Inui had only become an even better tennis player while they were in high school, and his knowledge already seemed limitless. Besides, Inui was the only person out of all his former teammates that Kaidoh felt had never really changed. He was secretly grateful for that.

And so he had gone to live with Inui in Kyushu. He hadn't once regretted his decision. Inui had never disappointed him. Through the past year and half, he had remained the same dependable person that Kaidoh had first met over six years ago.

But slowly, Kaidoh had come to realize that he himself had changed.

At first, he hadn't understood it. He had always respected Inui, and even regarded him as a friend, which was not like him in the first place. Kaidoh wasn't much for making friends… People either annoyed him or they didn't. And of course, Inui didn't annoy him. But the way he felt about Inui was never that simple. That much, Kaidoh had understood from the very beginning.

For a few months after the move, Kaidoh had decided that his feelings were just those of a very good friend. But somewhere along the way, his senpai became even more important to him than that. And then one night, when Inui had said goodnight and vanished into his bedroom, Kaidoh's eyes had followed his senpai so intently that he suddenly realized the truth.

It wasn't that he was simply grateful to Inui, that he appreciated his senpai's friendship and enjoyed his company. All those things were true, but they had only served to conceal the most important reality from Kaidoh's understanding.

No, there was much more to it than that.

He was in love with his roommate.

Once he realized that, it all seemed clear to him. It was an uncomfortable truth, something that he would rather have died than admit. But it was there all the same, and he couldn't really ignore it, even though he had never breathed a word about it to anyone.

_Click, click, click. Click! Click, click._

Kaidoh sat there, listening very intently to that grating rhythm, as Inui continued to type. Suddenly, he realized exactly why that sound was annoying him.

It was just so damn _repetitive_.

From the moment that Kaidoh had realized that he was in love, he had known that he was trapped. He had already been living with his senpai for several months by the time he had figured it out, and they had become comfortable with each other. They had settled into a certain rhythm of activity: training, studying, resting, working…

As time went on, that rhythm only became more unbreakable, and Kaidoh hadn't dared to confess his feelings to his senpai. He didn't want to disturb their way of life, because even if it was frustrating, he was happy just being near Inui. That was enough for him. And it should have always been enough…

But every once in awhile, on days like today…

Kaidoh wished that he could just smash that damned keyboard to pieces.

_Click! Click! Click!_

"Senpai," Kaidoh said suddenly, in a slightly louder tone than he had intended to use. The tapping on the keyboard stopped, and Inui looked up from the screen, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

"Ah… Yes, Kaidoh?" his senpai asked, in his usual monotone voice.

Kaidoh swallowed hard, almost making a gulping sound in the process.

"Uh… well… I…"

His thoughts were scrambling frantically for something, _anything_, to say. Now that the annoying sound had stopped, he felt as though he was about to fall off a cliff.

…

"_Kaidoh-senpai, you should tell him."_

…

Kaidoh's heart was beating as fast as if he had just run an entire marathon in one go. He opened his mouth, and everything in him believed that he would actually say it…

"It's nothing, senpai," he replied in an even tone.

He cringed inwardly at his own cowardice, but it was better that way. It was better if he never said it. After all, if he did say it, it would change everything… If he said it, it would certainly ruin their friendship, and who knew if Inui would want to see him ever again, after he had finally admitted that he didn't see his senpai as just a friend…?

_Click… Click click… Click…_

That all-too-familiar rhythm had returned, but it was slower this time, and in the intermediate silence, Kaidoh heard another voice…

…

"_Well, you don't know until you try, Viper, and I never pegged you as being a coward."_

…

Kaidoh hissed under his breath. Suddenly, he was more than just frustrated. He was even angry. He was angry with himself.

Why had he let it go on for so long like this?

He was Kaidoh Kaoru, after all, and Kaidoh Kaoru _wasn't_ a coward.

As if a lightning bolt had suddenly cracked the sky, Kaidoh walked straight up to the desk where Inui was sitting. Then, just as abruptly, he slammed down the lid of his roommate's laptop. Inui's fingers barely escaped a beating, and for a split second, Kaidoh witnessed an unspeakably rare sight.

Inui was completely bewildered.

The shock of seeing the stoic object of his affections being made even slightly vulnerable was almost enough to stop Kaidoh in his tracks. But he swallowed his anxiety and took the leap, right off of that terrifying cliff…

"Senpai, I need to tell you something," he said.

For a second, Inui just nodded slightly, with a completely blank expression. But it was then that Kaidoh noticed.

Just a little… just a tiny bit, almost completely unnoticeable to the eye…

Inui's hands were shaking.

"Senpai---" Kaidoh was about to express his astonishment at that discovery, when he was interrupted by his roommate's steady voice.

"You know, Kaidoh, I'll listen to whatever you want to say. But you might…"

Here Inui faltered for a moment, and his voice lowered into a murmur.

"You might think about… That is, you might not want to say it."

Kaidoh felt as though he'd been turned into stone. There, right in front of his eyes, entering his ears, was the very thing he had feared. Wasn't this a rejection, before he'd even begun to confess? His senpai already knew all about it, and he didn't want to hear it. That must have been it. The immediate urge to backtrack his way out of such a mess filled Kaidoh's entire being.

"Maybe not," he mumbled, looking away. "Especially if you already know what I'm going to say…"

"I do have a guess," admitted Inui nervously, staring at the closed laptop. "I've been worried that you would say it for some time now…"

…

Worried…? _Worried?_

Well, that was it, Kaidoh thought. It certainly sounded like a rejection to him, even if he knew next to nothing about this kind of thing. But now he'd gone too far to just swallow the truth, and the hurt that he felt simply overpowered his own nervousness.

No, he had come this far. Even if it hurt, he would say it…

Much to his surprise, though, it was Inui who spoke up first, without even looking at his roommate.

"You want to go solo, don't you, Kaidoh? After all, you're only a year away from reaching your peak, and you're ready for the more competitive circuits…"

"What did you say?" Kaidoh suddenly interrupted, eyes wide in surprise.

Inui paused there, with a confused frown.

"I said, you want to go solo, right?" he repeated calmly, though he looked slightly paler than usual. "It's alright, Kaidoh. I understand. You're the type of person who wants to make it on his own, and I know that my help would be---"

"Is that what you thought?" exclaimed Kaidoh, not even listening to the rest of Inui's remarks.

Inui reached up to adjust his glasses again, and now Kaidoh could see clearly that his hand was trembling.

"I beg your pardon?" His voice, though, was as monotonous as always.

"You thought I was going to say that I was leaving?" Kaidoh demanded, desperately trying to keep all his jumbled emotions from spilling out at once.

"Well, I had been expecting it sooner or later," Inui confirmed quietly. "I'm not so foolish as to think that you would stay with me forever…"

"Do you want that?" Kaidoh asked suddenly, looking intently at his roommate's face.

"Do I want…?"

Slowly, Inui took a deep breath, pressing his hands down on top of the computer case.

"Kaidoh, I've always wanted you to stay. Ever since I left Tokyo, I wanted nothing more than for you to come with me. And so, you know, I decided…"

Here Inui stopped, with another frown appearing on his mouth.

"Well, never mind. That isn't---"

"What did you decide, senpai?" Kaidoh urged him, still staring at his roommate's unreadable expression.

"I decided that I would try to be the person that you always knew, for your sake. I noticed how much it bothered you that everyone else was changing, and so I wanted…"

Here Inui finally looked up again, meeting Kaidoh's stare with his frosted lenses.

"I wanted to be someone that you could depend on. Even though I know you don't need anyone… And even though I knew that someday you would want to leave. I wanted to be there for you, as long as you let me."

There was a pause, and Kaidoh thought he saw something like fear glinting behind those glasses.

"Except that it isn't true, Kaidoh. I'm not the same person that I was," Inui finally confessed. "And no matter how hard I try, I can't really go back, even if I hide it."

For a moment, Kaidoh wanted to ask what Inui was trying to hide. But he stopped himself. Instead, he took a moment longer to gaze at his roommate, to examine the frown on that mouth, to note the way those fingers were fidgeting on the laptop's smooth surface.

Almost imperceptibly, Kaidoh breathed a quiet sigh. Now he understood.

"Did you really think that I wanted to leave, senpai?" he inquired again, his low voice sounding strangely calm.

"Of course I did," Inui replied, looking perplexed.

Kaidoh processed this thought for a moment longer, and then, ever so slightly, he smiled. But even as he did so, he let that familiar noise escape from his lips.

"Fssssshhhhh. I can't believe this."

Inui looked as though he wanted to say something, but his roommate's words had confused him too much.

"Inui-senpai, that wasn't what I wanted to tell you," Kaidoh finally explained, looking almost exasperated.

"What did you want to tell me, then?" Inui managed after a split second, even though the confusion never left his face.

Instead of answering right away, Kaidoh leaned forward, bending down toward his senpai. His hands reached in front of him, coming right up against Inui's face, but the data man didn't even flinch. Slowly, Kaidoh grasped the corners of his senpai's glasses, sliding the frames right off of his roommate's head.

…

"_Inui-senpai is far-sighted when it comes to reading people's hearts…"_

"_He probably can't see the feelings of the person the closest to him."_

…

Two dark eyes blinked nervously, exposed, as they gazed up at Kaidoh.

"Maybe if you'd stop looking at me with just your eyes, senpai, you'd already know," Kaidoh whispered.

In that moment, as Inui stared at the blurry image of his roommate standing before him, he suddenly felt something that he had never noticed before. His heart stood still.

"Kaidoh…"

"I love you, senpai," Kaidoh said.

The younger man leaned in closer, with his senpai's glasses still in his hands. And then, in that tiny hotel room in Tokyo, Kaidoh Kaoru gave Inui Sadaharu a kiss on the lips.

And for the first time, Inui knew.

Kaidoh wasn't going to leave him.

Ever.

"I'm sorry, Kaidoh," he breathed after a pause, trying to will his heartbeat to slow down. "I guess that I just never thought…"

"Why didn't you?" Kaidoh muttered, sounding a bit frustrated in spite of himself. "I only followed you around for five years straight. Even if I didn't realize it at the time, you should have."

Inui smiled at that.

"You're right… I should have. Except that it took me too long to realize…"

He chuckled a little, glancing back up at Kaidoh.

"Data can't predict the heart, after all."

Kaidoh sighed at that, shaking his head. "Don't tell me… You were always looking for signs that I loved you?"

The smile never left Inui's face. Coupled with the glitter of those handsome eyes, it was almost too much for Kaidoh.

"Of course I was," Inui promptly replied. "I know myself, after all. I've known that I was in love with you for years."

"Of course you would," Kaidoh retorted, unable to keep from rolling his eyes, in spite of his blushing face. "I never thought I would say this, senpai, but you're an idiot."

"When it comes to love, yes, I am," Inui admitted, as a knowing grin crept onto his mouth. "But then, so are you... I suppose we'll just have to be idiots together."

And with that, Inui pulled Kaidoh into his arms, and they kissed again.

And again.

And again.

Next to them, the laptop remained shut, lying completely forgotten on the hotel desk.

- - - - - - - - - - -

_I had always hoped…_

_That everything would be alright. _

…

Oishi was quietly flipping through the channels on Eiji's television. Tezuka had already left the apartment, saying that he needed to go pick up Fuji from somewhere. And as usual, Eiji was doing something in the kitchen. Oishi couldn't help smiling a little, as he listened to the sounds coming from that particular room. Especially Eiji's baby talk to his cat, who was apparently causing some trouble…

"Oh, Shuuko-chan, you are just so silly… Hey, stop it! You can't touch that! You bad kitty…!"

Oishi almost laughed aloud, but he restrained himself. Even so, he couldn't help thinking that it sounded a little odd to hear a grown man scolding someone in such an ridiculously cute voice, especially out of context…

_But that's Eiji for you, after all._

Oishi turned back to the television and frowned. He glanced at the TV guide, which was lying open next to him. But sure enough, it was the right channel…

_Right channel, wrong program. I guess it's still too soon for that._

He was still gazing thoughtfully at the screen, when the sudden sound of the front door opening interrupted his reverie.

Much to his surprise, there was Momo locking the door behind him. Eiji's normally transparent roommate hadn't been home all day…

"Momo-chin?" Eiji was saying, as he came out of the kitchen. "Where have you been, anyway?"

"Oh, hey, Eiji-senpai," greeted Momo amiably. He was carrying a handful of folders in one arm, and slipping his keys into his pocket with the other.

"Momo, I asked you a question---" Eiji tried to say, but his roommate interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah, I know. Just a second. I have to go grab a few things."

Eiji rolled his eyes as Momo disappeared into the side hallway. He could hear the faint sounds of Momo searching through the clutter in the bedroom, throwing things aside and shoving the piles of their possessions off of the furniture.

"Stupid Momo," Eiji sighed, as he sat down next to Oishi on the couch. "I wonder what he's lost this time."

But Oishi didn't say anything, and there was a decided frown on the former vice captain's face. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but something was bothering him. Even though Momo seemed to be his usual, friendly self, wearing a smile on his face as his standard attire…

There was something in Momo's eyes that he didn't like.

Oishi knew that he had seen it before. But where…?

"So, is this the channel that he's going to be on?" Eiji asked suddenly, looking up at the television.

"Oh… Yeah, I think so," Oishi replied, taking one last glance at the guide. "The newspaper mentioned it would be on this program, and the sports channel should cover it live…"

"I'm not exactly happy about it, but it _is_ exciting to think that Ochibi will be on TV," Eiji remarked, smiling a little bit.

Oishi looked at Eiji and tried to smile back. "You're right. Though he's certainly been on TV enough already…"

"Well, not on a Japanese interview, anyway," Eiji pointed out, as cheerfully as he could.

"That's true."

But their conversation came to an immediate halt when they both noticed Momo re-enter the living room. Much to their surprise, he was carrying a large bag over one shoulder, and he held another duffel in his hand.

"Momo-chin, where are you going?" Eiji blurted out, looking very confused.

With a simple smile, Momo reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys. He held them out toward Eiji, placing them gently in his roommate's hand. Lightly, he closed the redhead's fingers around them, and then he pulled his arm away again.

Eiji just stared up at Momo, completely astonished.

"Momo… what…?"

But Eiji couldn't finish the question. His heart was sinking into his chest, even before he really understood what was happening.

"I'm returning these to you, Eiji-senpai."

Oishi was watching Momo's face very carefully, trying to decipher the emotion hidden behind that seemingly transparent smile. But he couldn't see a thing.

… Since when had the power player's smile become a mask?

"Momo, what are you saying?" the former vice captain wondered aloud.

"I'm saying that it's time for me to return them, Oishi-senpai," Momo began, very frankly. "You finally came back, and now I know that Eiji-senpai will be happy again. So it's time for me to move on."

The silence that followed was overwhelming. After a moment, though, Momo turned back to Eiji and bowed.

"Thank you for letting me room with you, Eiji-senpai," he said, still smiling. "I really appreciated it."

"Wait, Momo, where are you going?" demanded Eiji, sounding almost frantic.

"Like I said, Eiji-senpai, it's time for me to move on. I decided to switch colleges, and I'm moving to Kyoto. I finally finished the paperwork for the transfer as of today, so I'm off," Momo readily answered.

"But Momo, you can't actually…" Eiji trailed off, as though he were trying to think of a way to protest.

"Eiji-senpai, listen to me," Momo said, looking his roommate straight in the eye. "All I want is for you to be happy. Now that Oishi-senpai is here, I know you'll be alright. And I don't want to get in the way of your happiness."

Eiji wished that he knew what to say to that. He longed to say _something_, anything at all… But somehow, as he met the stare of those purple eyes, his mind was completely blank.

"Momo, there's no reason why you can't stay here," Oishi spoke up at last. There was an extremely worried look on the older man's face.

But Momo shook his head. "No, I have to leave you two alone sooner or later. And for me, now is the best time to go through with it. So…"

He paused for a moment, looking at them both with a sincere warmth in his eyes.

"Be happy, Golden Pair," he said.

Momo turned and began walking away. The keys were still in Eiji's hand, as the redhead watched him leave. Both he and Oishi were completely stunned. They just sat there, watching, as Momoshiro Takeshi prepared to leave Eiji's apartment for good.

Suddenly, though, it was as if they both came to their senses.

"Momo, wait!" Eiji cried out, begging his friend to stop. "Please don't go!"

The power player stopped at the door, standing with his back to them. For a moment, he stayed completely still, as though he were reconsidering.

"Momo!" Oishi stood straight up, calling out to the younger man. "Don't do this…"

Oishi had finally figured out where he'd seen that dull look in Momo's eyes before.

Once upon a time, he had seen it in the mirror.

"Momo, leaving isn't the answer," he added, more softly this time.

Oishi knew where the younger man must have been coming from. But he also know that leaving had been his biggest mistake… It was a mistake that the former vice captain did not want to see repeated.

After a split second, Momo turned back to face them both, with that same bright smile. But sure enough, the color was already fading from his eyes.

"It wasn't _your_ answer, Oishi-senpai. You and Eiji-senpai were always meant to be together," he said calmly, as his hand started turning the knob. "That's why I know you'll be happy."

And just like that, the door shut, and Momo was gone.

Oishi just stood there, for a full minute, staring at the closed door. But Eiji slowly sank back onto the couch, and before he could try to stop them, tears were filling his eyes.

With something like instinct, Oishi noticed almost instantly that Eiji was crying. He sat down next to his lover, gently putting one arm around the redhead and drawing him close.

"What is it, Eiji?" he asked quietly.

"It's just that… I… I didn't want this…" Eiji stammered, in between his tears. He buried his head in his hands, looking completely devastated.

"I know you didn't," Oishi said, as soothingly as he could. "But we have to let him go, since that's what he wants."

"It's not just Momo-chin, though … It's Ochibi, too, and…" Eiji gasped out, trying to form his words and catch his breath at the same time.

"What about Echizen?" Oishi was slightly confused.

"It's just that I wanted… I mean, I thought that…" Eiji clasped his hands together tightly, as if trying to hold onto something that was completely irreplaceable.

"I wanted us all to be together again!" he exclaimed finally, in a choked voice.

At that, Oishi grew silent, gazing at the top of Eiji's head with sorrow in his eyes.

"I mean, I know it was stupid… Because we've been apart for so long, and it would never work anyway… We all have different lives now. But when Ochibi came back, I started to believe that it might happen, just the same, and I…"

Eiji sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away from his eyes.

"And I wanted everything to be alright again. But it can't be. Not like this."

For a moment, Oishi stared off into space, thinking. But then he gave Eiji a slight squeeze on his shoulder, and his words were very serious.

"You're right, Eiji. It can't be alright like this. But…"

And he took Eiji's hands into his own, meeting those blue eyes with a sympathetic look.

"But I want to believe that Echizen could give us one last miracle. After all, he brought us together again, didn't he?"

Eiji nodded, though he barely cracked a smile. "He did… And Momo did too. Even though I never realized it before."

"Right." Oishi brought his face close to Eiji's, leaning in for a quick kiss. "So maybe, even now, just maybe…"

Their eyes met, and they said those four words together, perfectly in sync and as carefully as a prayer.

"Everything will be alright."

- - - - - - - - - -

Ryoma was standing in his hotel room, completely alone, as he gazed out the window. He had stayed in his room for most of the morning, trying to avoid the reporters that were swarming around the hotel. But now he had to get ready, because he was scheduled to leave for the press conference within the hour.

The trouble was, he couldn't seem to tear himself away from that window.

_I wonder what they're all doing, right now…_

With a sudden clatter, his manager barged into the room, looking frantic. But then, Mr. Davis always looked frantic before each and every press conference, even though the chances of disaster were always low. It was a manager's job to look frantic, apparently.

"Ryoma!" he scolded, taking a look around the room. "You have to get moving! We're leaving in twenty minutes to walk to the convention center."

"Do we have to walk?" asked Ryoma after a moment. But his manager just sighed in exasperation.

"You know we have to walk. The convention center is right next door. You'll just have to deal with the reporters."

"Yes, Mr. Davis," came the surprisingly resigned answer. But the manager hardly seemed to notice, as he bustled around the room like a hurricane, tossing some clothes on the bed and making his way back out the door.

"Put those on right away. I'll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes."

With that, the door closed shut again.

Ryoma glanced at the clothes on the bed, blankly walking over and picking them up. There was nothing special about the outfit, really, but if he knew his manager, he had thoroughly analyzed his wardrobe and selected the most appropriate outfit in the space of five seconds. He was like that, after all… A control freak, not to mention insane.

Really, though, Ryoma didn't complain about his manager. He was a smart man, even if he was something of a nag. But then, that was his job, after all. To nag, and nag, and nag…

Ryoma sighed and began taking off the shirt he was currently wearing. He couldn't explain it, but he had never felt so completely disgusted at the thought of appearing for a press conference. Of course, interviews had never excited him before, either, but he usually didn't feel this oppressed by the mere idea.

Again, his eyes wandered over to the window, and his thoughts vanished into the sky, leaving the earth.

He couldn't explain why, but he felt horribly empty. It was as though he was stuck, up there in the heavens, and he couldn't possibly come down, no matter how hard he tried. It was as if his heart was gazing up into space, feeling that strange sense of vertigo that a person gets just before they fall a million feet to the ground.

And yet, he was stuck up there. He couldn't fall. He was frozen in that pale blue sky.

…

"_The stars are beautiful… But if you watch them too long, it can get pretty lonely."_

…

Echizen Ryoma had never really regretted joining the pro circuit. Sure, there were days when he would have rather stayed at home than deal with all the obligations of being a tennis star… But ever since he had been inspired to stand at the top of the tennis world, he had never actually regretted it.

Until now.

Now, suddenly, it was as though he saw his life through someone else's eyes. And it was an empty life, filled with very little that Ryoma actually wanted. After all, he didn't really care about the money, and fame meant absolutely nothing to him. He didn't mind the constant training, and he had always enjoyed playing tennis, but…

In the end, even tennis had given him little more than a handful of effortlessly fulfilled dreams. And as big as those dreams had seemed at the time, they did not fill his heart.

Ryoma found himself wondering why this was. He had always figured that it was those dreams, given to him by the man he had most admired, that had driven him to go so far in the pro circuits. And then to discover, in the end, that those dreams felt so small, and so cold, and so empty…

It scared him. If it wasn't his dreams that had driven him so far, what was it?

It was the first time that he had even asked such a question.

…

"_And then, a funny thing happened… I realized that I loved him."_

…

Ryoma's breath caught in his throat, and his heart began to beat with an uncomfortable lack of regularity. He blinked rapidly, trying to will away that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach…

Ever since last night, he hadn't been able to get Momo's voice out of his head.

It was ridiculous, really… Because he couldn't explain why. He couldn't explain it, except that his friend's voice had said every word to him with the most sincere kind of feeling…

No one had ever told Ryoma that they loved him. Not like that. And so, when someone had at last offered him their heart, he had no idea what to do.

The strange thing was, he got the feeling that Momo didn't expect him to do anything at all.

…

"_I thought about telling him…"_

…

Of course, Ryoma had always known exactly how he felt about Momo. Momo was his best friend. In fact, Momo had been his first friend. Before Ryoma had met the lively power player, he had never known what it was to laugh with someone, or to go somewhere just to hang out, or to poke fun at someone and know that they would never misunderstand you.

Yes, Ryoma had always known how he felt about Momo.

… Or so he had thought.

Now, however, it was as though the ground had fallen out from under him. In all the times he had spent with Momo, he had never even entertained the possibility of falling in love with him. They were friends. Momo was his dearest friend…

… Wasn't he?

Ryoma certainly remembered the Momo from junior high as his best friend. It was true, though, that ever since he'd returned to Japan, he hadn't quite felt that way. In fact, he had felt vaguely uncomfortable around him, and that feeling had increased with every hour that passed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had realized that Momo had changed. Something about Momo had changed.

And at first, Ryoma hadn't liked it at all.

But now…

Now he could clearly see what had changed, and it only confused him. What had changed wasn't Momo. What had changed was Momo's feelings for _him_.

And now he didn't know what to think.

…

"_Then I realized it would be like trying to catch a star."_

…

Ryoma swallowed hard, trying to will away the lump that was rising in his throat.

Why did he feel so alone?

"If I am a star, I think I would rather fall..."

Even as he whispered that to himself, he got the strange feeling that there was something that he was forgetting. If he was like a star, floating there in space, was he really alone? Or was there something that could hold a star up, supporting him as he shone from that unreachable height?

… The more he thought about it, though, the more he felt that there wasn't.

No, he was alone.

He was alone, and in about a half an hour, he was going to face the world again, from that dizzying height.

He had tried to get out of the press conference… Even though his manager had called him at Eiji's apartment the night before, to tell him that he was flying all the way to Japan to help Ryoma with the interview. Even though his manager had insisted that it was necessary, that Ryoma owed it to all his supporters, and to all his sponsors as well. Even though his manager had said that since Ryoma had been discovered in Japan, there was no way to get out of the interview without risking bad press…

Even so, he had tried to get out of it. Because for the first time, Ryoma felt so empty that he didn't think he could hide it from the world. He had never felt truly lonely before, or if he had, it had been easy enough to ignore.

But now, with the knowledge that his manager was taking him back to America within the space of twenty-four hours…

With the knowledge that he wouldn't even have time to say goodbye to his eight dearest friends…

With the knowledge that there was someone who loved him more than anyone else in the whole world, and that he was leaving that person behind, whether he returned those feelings or not…

For the first time, Echizen Ryoma wished that he were anything but a star.

**- end of chapter twenty-four -**

* * *

**Useless Footnote:** (1) During the Fudomine arc in PoT, Taka calls Fuji by the nickname 'Fujiko-chan.' He doesn't normally do this, since it's such a diminutive nickname, but it seems to be a side effect of his 'Burning' mode… Anyway, since Taka's personality has since become a kind of combination of two sides, I thought it would be cute to use the pet name here. XD

_A/N: Let me just say… AGH! XD I'm so sorry that this chapter is over a week past due! Gah… I am not worthy! -hits herself repeatedly with her planner- I really didn't think it would take me this long, but I had final exams starting last week, and then this week I also came down with a bad cold. So my brain went dead, and my writing skills were worse than usual. (Lol.) That said, if there are grammatical errors in this chapter, I hope you can forgive them, but do feel free to point them out._

_The chapter also turned out to be longer than I expected, but I'm okay with that. Since it's so near the end, I wanted to make sure that I spent enough time on each part. But I really am sorry for the long wait! Though I'm sure that many of you are just as busy, so near to the holidays and the end of semester and all that…_

_By the way, **as for the grand finale, it will be up within the next few days. **Really, I promise! XD And I will be doing my absolute best to make it worth your time. So please wish me luck! -cracks knuckles-_

_Thanks as always to all my readers, and especially all my reviewers. You are the reason that this story is about to be completed, and I can't thank you enough for your support. I hope you're still enjoying the story! **Please tell me what you thought of chapter twenty-four!**_

_**Coming Up Next:** The final chapter, plus an epilogue. See you there!_


	25. Chapter 25: A Falling Star

**Chapter Twenty-Five: A Falling Star**

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Prince of Tennis… I do own copies of all the anime DVDs, though! XD

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter twenty-five! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: **May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ flamers will be sent to clean Seigaku's tennis uniforms. **Lol.

Here it is! -takes a deep breath- It's the last chapter of this fic, along with an epilogue afterwards. I sincerely hope that all of you enjoy it. This is dedicated to _all_ of you who read this far… I really appreciate it, and I'm still amazed how many people managed to make it through such a long story! **Enjoy the ending, everyone!**

* * *

_It's strange, how you never know what you have, until you think you've lost it for good._

_I realized last night that there is only one thing that I really want._

_I want to be by your side. I want to stay with you…_

_For the rest of my life._

…

…

_Ryoma walked up to the front gate, carefully pressing the correct numbers on the touch pad and waiting for the usual response. Slowly, the gate opened, and he made his way up the front walk, just like always. He was currently living at his estate in Florida, the place he called home during most of the off-season. After all, it was a much better place for training than New York. Besides, his personal trainer lived near Miami, which made it much more convenient for everyone involved._

_This was why, for most of the year, Ryoma lived by himself in a mansion in Florida._

_He didn't really mind living alone. His parents were content in their penthouse apartment in Manhattan, and he was usually too busy traveling to care where his home base was._

_No, he didn't mind living alone… Even though the house was so huge that he sometimes felt lost inside it._

_Once he reached the front door, he slipped his keys out of his pocket and began opening the lock. He could hear the faint sound of mewing inside, which meant that Karupin had already noticed that his master had returned. Ryoma smiled slightly, twisting the key all the way to one side…_

_Just as he was about to remove it from the keyhole, he froze._

_There was that feeling again._

_What was it? It was the strangest thing, something Ryoma had been feeling for years now, every once in awhile…_

_It was the faint sensation that two arms had just grabbed him from behind, squeezing him tightly in an affectionate hug._

_He turned around, but just like always, no one was there. It was the most unsettling feeling of déjà vu. He knew that feeling. He had felt it before…_

… _But what was it? Who hugged him like that?_

_Turning back to the door, he finished pulling the key from the lock and twisted the knob. And as Ryoma walked inside the gigantic front hall, all by himself, he realized something. He realized what that emptiness inside of him really meant, whenever he felt the familiar touch of those invisible arms…_

_He was lonely. And he missed his friends._

_He hadn't realized it before, but it was true. He missed his friends. And suddenly, he realized what he was going to do._

_He was going to go back to Japan._

…

The nation of Japan was in an uproar.

Echizen Ryoma, the world-famous tennis star, had just appeared on the island country only two weeks after his fourth consecutive Wimbledon win. The visit was completely unannounced, and it was a shock, for the most adamant Japanese tennis fan to the most casual observer. After all, it went without saying that Echizen Ryoma was the most famous person of Japanese nationality to ever make it in the world of professional sports. And because of that, he was nothing short of a Japanese idol, even though he had never come to the country in person…

… Until now. Now, Echizen Ryoma was in Japan.

Yes, he was in Japan, and it seemed like every last person in Tokyo was scrambling to catch a glimpse of him, if the crowd around the convention center was any indication of that fact.

The press conference that had been scheduled was open only to journalists, of course. But that hadn't stopped a sizable crowd of civilians from gathering on the sidewalks, waiting to see Echizen Ryoma enter the building. It had created a traffic nightmare on the adjacent streets, and the police had their hands full trying to keep the most rabid fans out of the convention hall.

Unknown to most of those who had gathered outside, however, was the fact that the long-awaited star had already slipped under their radar. About forty minutes before the conference was scheduled to begin, a young man in dark sunglasses and a black hat had managed to creep into a side entrance with his entourage. A lone fangirl who had recognized her idol screamed out that it was him, but by the time anyone else had noticed, Echizen Ryoma had vanished safely into the building.

Now, the world-famous tennis star was standing backstage, waiting to face all of Japan.

The hall was fairly quiet, considering the occasion. It appeared that the journalists at least were conducting themselves with propriety. Nevertheless, the conference was going to be broadcasted live on national television. And it went without saying that Mike Davis, Echizen Ryoma's manager, was about to have a heart attack.

"Ryoma! Are you ready to go on in half an hour?" Davis fretted, as he ran right by his client to confirm something with the stage manager.

Ryoma didn't even bother to answer, since he knew that Davis was too busy to hear him. He stood by the side curtains, peering in between the drapes to catch a glimpse of the inside of the hall. Since the event had been scheduled in such a hurry, conducting a conference in an overly large venue had been a necessity… In fact, the tennis star wouldn't have guessed that there were this many reporters in all of Japan. But he was used to intimidating crowds. No, the crowd didn't bother him.

But the empty, aching feeling inside of him did.

As he stood there, staring at the crowded scene that had been laid out before his eyes, he felt as though he was looking through a piece of glass. There, on the other side, was the world, fluttering with activity. On his side of the curtain, though, he was just standing there, waiting in the dark.

In that darkness, he found himself remembering the past few days, thinking about the chaos that had erupted around him when he had finally returned to Japan after five years.

He had come back to Japan to keep a promise. In doing so, he had discovered a nightmare. And then he had done his best to bring his dearest friends back together, so that they could be happy again.

He had done that. He was sure of it. And so it wasn't the secrets or the lies that were echoing inside his ears now. But the voices that lingered in his mind did belong to those eight people, those same people that he cared about so deeply…

… What were those voices saying?

…

"_We miss you, Echizen. We are very proud of you, but we will always miss you."_

…

"_How do we affect other people, Echizen? Sometimes we don't even realize our own power…"_

…

"_Thanks for coming back, Ochibi."_

…

"_Echizen, who is it that you love?"_

…

"_What do you want from life, Echizen?_ _Hold on to it, and don't ever let go."_

…

"_Go ahead, Echizen. It's okay. It's you, after all."_

…

"_I've got him, senpai… It's Echizen. He has to be alright."_

…

"_And then, a funny thing happened. I realized that I loved him."_

…

Ryoma swallowed as hard as he could, trying to will the choking feeling out of his throat. Even though his friends weren't actually there to repeat the words they had once spoken to him, it was as though he could hear their voices playing inside his head. And all at once, his friends felt so near that he could almost see them, but they were still too far away to reach…

As Ryoma stared out through the curtain, he felt as though the crowd had vanished, and everything was darkness.

…

"Enjoying the view, boy?"

A very familiar voice suddenly jerked Ryoma back to reality.

The tennis star whirled around, only to find himself face to face with his father, Echizen Nanjiroh.

"Oyaji?" Ryoma stammered, astonished. "What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Davis informed us of your visit to Japan a few days ago," another familiar voice answered. "So, your father and I thought that it might be a good time to come back for a visit too."

Sure enough, Ryoma discovered that his mother was standing right next to his father. And they were both looking at him with a kind of searching expression that Ryoma couldn't really decipher.

"Okasan, what do you…?" Ryoma felt as though he should be asking something, but he wasn't quite sure what.

Without letting him finish the question, Nanjiroh walked right up to the curtains and yanked them together, so that the view was blocked. Then he turned back to his son, remarking, "Well, boy, that's quite a crowd you got there. What are you supposed to say to them, huh?"

"Something like this, I guess," shrugged Ryoma, handing his father a few stray pieces of paper, which contained some hurried notes that his manager had scribbled out at the last minute.

Nanjiroh's sharp eyes ran over the lines, and he chuckled. "All the usual gibberish, I see. These managers are great for saying absolutely nothing, as enthusiastically as possible."

"Are you nervous, darling?" Ryoma's mother asked, coming up alongside her son and gently grasping his shoulders.

"No…" But Ryoma's hesitant reply wasn't in the self-assured tone that his parents had come to expect.

The couple exchanged a glance for a moment, and then Ryoma's mother turned back to her son, with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"Ryoma, dear, is something wrong?" she softly inquired, examining her son's eyes very carefully.

"No, not exactly… That is, I mean… Well, there _shouldn't_ be," Ryoma finally managed, almost in a whisper, as though he was afraid that the entire world was listening.

There was a pause, there in the dim place next to the curtain, as if the darkness itself was holding its breath.

Finally, his mother spoke again. "Darling, I hope you don't mind us asking… Why did you come back to Japan?"

Ryoma frowned. "I was… I had something to take care of, Okasan. That's all."

"Oh, I see," Ryoma's mother said, very calmly. "It's alright, then… You don't have to tell us about it. But does that mean that you're going back to America with Mr. Davis, as soon as he flies out?"

Ryoma nodded, though a kind of dim submission came into his eyes.

"Can I ask you _why_?" came the gruff interruption.

Startled, Ryoma looked over at his father. The older man's arms were crossed over his chest, while his eyes glared intently into his son's face.

"Why what, Oyaji?" Ryoma repeated, looking very confused.

Nanjiroh didn't move, and Ryoma started to feel as if those eyes were staring right through him. "Can I ask you why you're going back to America, boy?"

"Why…?" Suddenly, Ryoma felt very frustrated. "What do you mean, why? You know why! I'm going back because I'm a professional tennis player… And I have things I have to do, so I have to leave…"

Slowly, Ryoma's voice trailed off into silence, and he just stood there, with his parents watching him.

"But there's someone that you don't want to leave behind, isn't there?" Ryoma's mother said quietly.

Ryoma's heart stopped beating.

_Someone I don't want to leave behind…?_

…

"_I love you all."_

…

"You really are out of it, boy," Nanjiroh observed candidly, eyes still fixed on Ryoma. "You're shaking."

There was a pause, and for the first time in his parents' memory, Ryoma looked at them both with an overwhelming fear in his eyes.

"I'm just scared," he murmured at last. "I'm scared, Oyaji… Because for the first time in my life, tennis isn't… It isn't…"

But he couldn't finish. Nanjiroh knew exactly what his son wanted to say, though. And even though Ryoma didn't notice, he smiled.

Slowly, the retired tennis star walked up to the curtain, drawing it slightly apart again. He looked out across the gathering crowd, and he remembered another time, years ago, when faces not so different from those ones had been waiting for him to appear on stage… Waiting for him to announce something completely unexpected…

"You know, boy," he said suddenly, in a quieter tone. "You've already fulfilled all of my dreams."

Ryoma looked up in surprise, but he couldn't quite find the words to respond. Nanjiroh continued…

"In fact, you didn't just fulfill my dreams. You surpassed them. You completely shattered every last one of my expectations." He turned to face his son again, with that same knowing smile. "But now the question is… Ryoma, what's _your_ dream?"

"My dream…?" Ryoma whispered, still trembling slightly.

Nanjiroh walked over to his son, and put a hand on one of Ryoma's shoulders.

"That's right, Ryoma. It's time for you to find your own dream, whatever it is," he said firmly.

"Echizen-san! We're on in ten minutes! Please get ready!" came a voice from somewhere beyond Ryoma's current scope of perception. He nodded absently, though to what, he wasn't quite sure.

_To find my own dream…?_

"We just want you to be happy, darling," his mother added, with her gentle smile.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, but before he knew it, his parents were giving him light squeezes on the shoulder and making their way toward the back passage.

"We'll be waiting in the wings, dear," his mother said quickly. "It looks like it's almost time for you to go on."

It was as though a splash of cold water had been poured over Ryoma's head, as he suddenly noticed how frantic the place had become.

"Don't worry about a thing," Nanjiroh put in, giving his son a wink. "You're ready for it, boy. Go ahead and shock them all to death, if you want."

Ryoma wasn't sure whether he felt like laughing or crying, so instead, he smiled as best as he could. "Thank you, Oyaji… Okasan… Thank you."

But he barely comprehended their responding smiles, as he was suddenly swept up in the flurry of activity to prepare him for the cameras. There was his manager, babbling into one ear, and the television supervisor, yakking into the other. The makeup artist had already pounced on him, and another person was straightening his shirt and smoothing down his hair.

And just as soon as the hustle had begun, it was over, and Ryoma found himself standing on the side of the stage, as part of the curtain was pulled back…

Echizen Ryoma, the world-famous tennis star, had returned to the spotlight.

- - - - - - - - - - -

_I want us to stay together. Please don't go like this._

_Because to tell us to "Be happy!" while you leave us for good…_

_That is something that we just can't do._

…

Eiji and Oishi were still sitting on the sofa in Eiji's living room, side by side, over fifteen minutes after Momo had left the apartment. The couple was watching the television screen with a mixture of anticipation and dread, when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Eiji almost whispered, as he got up from the couch and walked down the hall.

Much to the redhead's surprise, it wasn't just one person standing there to greet him. In fact, Tezuka and Fuji were both in the hallway, accompanied by Inui and Kaidoh. And a glance across the way revealed that Taka was just coming out of the elevator.

"What in the world---?" The confusion was self-evident on Eiji's face. "Why is everyone here?"

Fuji shrugged a little, smiling his usual smile. "Tezuka and I wanted to come see you. As for the others, well, you'll have to ask them yourself. We don't know why they're here, either."

With the same astonishment in his eyes, Eiji turned to Inui and Kaidoh. With a slight cough, the data man adjusted his glasses and then spoke up.

"As for us, we were just paying you a visit. Right, Kaidoh?"

"Fsssshhhhh," was the articulate reply from Inui's roommate. The snakelike teenager seemed embarrassed about something.

"Okay… But what about you, Taka-san?" Eiji glanced at the future sushi chef with curiosity.

Taka just smiled, crossing his arms behind his back.

"I think we all know why we're here. We wanted to watch Echizen's interview together. Right?"

A few stray nods from the others were accompanied by a smile from Eiji, and he turned to open the door wide. "Right. Well, in that case, come in, everyone."

Before long, almost all of the former Seigaku regulars were gathered in Eiji's living room, glancing repeatedly at the television. For the moment, though, the screen still held nothing of interest for them. And so, as they waited for the broadcast to begin, these former teammates were forced to realize something…

For the first time in five years, they felt almost complete again. The air was finally cleared between them all, and the tension had disappeared. Even though so much had never been said, those ugly secrets from the past hardly seemed to matter anymore.

Yes, they were almost complete.

But then they realized something else. Where the most precious thing of all should have been, there was now a huge, gaping hole.

Of course, the pillar was missing… But something else was missing, too.

"Where's Momo?" Taka finally asked, sounding very concerned. At the question, both Eiji and Oishi's expressions fell, and the others were instantly filled with a sense of dread at the sight of those morose faces.

The former vice captain took a deep breath, looking at Taka as he answered.

"He left, about twenty minutes ago."

A few worried glances were quickly exchanged, before Kaidoh demanded, "What do you mean, he left?"

With sorrow in his eyes, Eiji held up the key ring that Momo had handed to him. "He gave these back to me. He's leaving for good… He said that he's transferring to Kyoto."

The shock in everyone's faces was as clear as glass.

"He's _what_?" cried Fuji, as Tezuka stood up from the chair on which he'd been sitting. Inui glanced quickly at Kaidoh, while Taka frowned to himself.

"He's leaving!" Eiji repeated painfully, as he threw the keys down onto the coffee table in front of him. "He told us that he had to move on, and that he was leaving now, because he knew we'd be alright… He said that he wanted us to be happy."

Tears were filling Eiji's eyes again, even though he held them back as bravely as he could. He continued, but it was in little more than a whisper.

"That Momo, he… He stayed here to help me, so that I would hang on until things got better… I think he tried to help all of us. I mean, I never noticed it before, and now… Now it doesn't even matter! Because he's _leaving_!"

Eiji choked out the last words, and then lapsed into silence, covering his eyes with his hands. The silence that followed was almost paralyzing in its anguish.

"But why would he leave so suddenly?" Inui muttered at last. "It doesn't make sense."

There was another pause. Slowly, Fuji's blue eyes opened wide.

"I know why. It's because Momo…"

Somehow, though, with everyone there, he couldn't finish the thought. And so it was Kaidoh who gruffly answered the question, even though the snakelike teenager stared intently at the floor as he spoke.

"It's because… It's because Echizen is perfect. That's what that idiot said… That he doesn't deserve him."

"Of course," murmured Oishi, almost under his breath. "Now it makes sense. That's why Momo's eyes looked like that."

"But that means… That strange look in Echizen's face last night, when he came into dinner…" Inui spoke slowly, catching all of their attention.

"Momo told him?" Eiji gave a voice to what they were all thinking. "Don't tell me that Ochibi rejected…"

Suddenly, their frenzied thoughts were all interrupted by an announcement from the television. The credits for the previous program had finally ended, and a voice was saying the following introduction:

"Today, we will be interrupting our normal programming at this time to bring you an exclusive interview. For the first time in his pro career, the world-famous tennis star Echizen Ryoma has come to Japan. In less than ten minutes, this channel will be broadcasting the momentous occasion on live TV. The interview will begin after a short word from our sponsors…"

The seven occupants of the room stared at the television during the entire length of the announcement. They watched, as images of the "world-famous tennis star" flashed by on the screen. They gazed at the likeness of the boy they knew, and just as Ryoma stood by himself backstage at the convention center and thought of them, they couldn't get him off of their minds.

In that moment, they all remembered the past few days, and everything that had happened. But most of all, they remembered the words of this "world-famous tennis star," and how much Echizen Ryoma meant to them, not as a star, but as the boy who had finally returned to them after five long years.

More than ever before, they realized who they had to thank for their new happiness. After all, it was that boy, and his most heartfelt words, that had brought them back together…

…

…

"_Tezuka-buchou, there's someone you love! … And I don't want you to lose him."_

…

"_Oishi-senpai… Tell him. Don't wait anymore."_

…

"_He really cares about you, Kikumaru-senpai. Don't ever forget that, okay?"_

…

"_You're his flaw, Fuji-senpai. You're his weakness. You're everything to him now."_

…

"_I'm not going to avoid anyone. I'm keeping my promise, Inui-senpai."_

…

"_Kawamura-senpai… Thank you for telling me… I have somewhere I need to be!"_

…

"_Kaidoh-senpai, you should tell him. It's a risk, but he would never hurt you."_

…

…

In that moment, when the only sound was the faint murmur of the television, everything seemed so clear. The reason why everything had fallen apart when Ryoma left, the reason why only Ryoma could have made it right again, the reason why Ryoma had been unable to bring himself to say goodbye…

Tezuka stood completely still, staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on that screen. Suddenly he knew what he had to do.

This time, it was his turn to be the pillar.

"Oishi," he said suddenly, catching everyone's attention. "I have to go somewhere. And I need you to come with me."

Oishi met the former captain's gaze, and it was as though he could hear the plea hidden in those sparking amber eyes. After a split second, he smiled, giving Tezuka a nod as he stood up from the couch.

"Right. We'll have to hurry, though. Did you bring the rental car?"

Much to the confusion of the room's other occupants, Tezuka quickly nodded and began making his way toward the door, closely followed by Oishi.

"Wait, what are you two---?" Eiji tried to ask a question, only to be interrupted by Fuji.

"Stop right there, Captain. You too, Oishi."

Both Tezuka and Oishi turned around, only to be shocked by the way Fuji's eyes were glaring. It was as though they had been lit with blue fire.

"What is it, Fuji?" Tezuka said, a bit warily.

The tension in the room seemed heavy enough to crush them all, until the tensai let a grin slip onto his mouth.

"You can go, but not without me. And I'm driving."

While some of the former Regulars breathed a sigh of relief, Oishi just laughed. And Tezuka smiled, even though his voice remained stern.

"And why would I let you do that? You drive like hell itself."

"And you will need that, won't you, Captain?" was Fuji's ironic retort, as he marched right past Tezuka with a flourish of his hand. "Or else we won't make it in time."

"What's going on?" Eiji demanded helplessly. The others looked equally perplexed.

With a slight shake of his head, Oishi returned to Eiji's side for a moment, taking his partner by the hand.

"We'll be back as soon as we can, Eiji. But you need to watch the broadcast for us, okay?"

Eiji looked searchingly in those green eyes for a moment, but then he smiled.

"Okay. We'll be watching. But come back soon."

"You don't have to worry about that, Eiji," Oishi whispered in the redhead's ear. "We'll always be together from now on. No matter what."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

_Everything will be alright…_

_I know it will. Without a doubt._

_Because I've always believed in you._

…

Momoshiro Takeshi stood on a train platform, watching as a long line of cars rocketed down the nearby tracks. The express to Kyoto wouldn't be arriving for another twenty minutes, but he didn't mind waiting. He wasn't in a hurry, after all, though a part of him secretly wished that he had already escaped from Tokyo…

In his right hand, Momo was clutching a newspaper.

**TENNIS STAR ECHIZEN RYOMA TO APPEAR IN TOKYO PRESS CONFERENCE TODAY!**

He had already seen the headline earlier that morning. In fact, he had known about it long before he had gone to finalize the college transfer paperwork. But it hadn't swayed him in his decision, not for a second…

No, from the moment that he had confessed his feelings to Ryoma, Momo had made his decision. He was leaving Tokyo, and that was that.

He had thought about it for a long time, really… What should he do if Eiji ever managed to reunite with Oishi? He had always known that he didn't want to be a third wheel in that small apartment, assuming that Eiji even decided to keep the apartment at all. For all Momo knew, the Golden Pair might both move to England, in which case he really didn't want to be tying them down.

More than that, though, Momo felt that he just couldn't stay in Tokyo anymore. It had been one thing when Ryoma had left for the first time. Back then, when he had watched everything fall apart, he had decided to stay until things could be made right again.

But now they were right again. And Ryoma was leaving for a second time.

And this time, Momo wasn't sure that he could bear it.

Taking a deep breath, Momo set his duffel bag on the ground, taking one last look at the headline before slipping the paper into a pocket. But as he did so, something else fell out of the bag, and he knelt to pick it up.

It was a magazine.

There on the cover was a beautiful thirteen-year-old boy, holding a gleaming trophy up to the camera. But the smile that he was wearing was even brighter than the metal.

**ECHIZEN RYOMA: YOUNGEST WIMBLEDON CHAMPION IN TENNIS HISTORY.**

As he gazed on the photo, from just over four years ago, Momo felt that familiar sensation come over him. It was like a fluttering of wings against his chest, followed by that queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd grown used to that feeling, whenever he looked at photographs of Ryoma, but now…

Now, for some reason, it almost made him want to cry.

Because he was Momo, though, he forced himself to laugh.

"Well, it looks like I'll have you to keep me company," he said softly to the magazine cover, smiling a little. "I just can't escape you, can I?"

Without even glancing around to see if anyone was looking, Momo brought the cover closer to his face, lightly brushing his lips against the smooth surface.

Laughing again, he shook his head and stood up, taking the duffel into his hand once again.

_Really, I'm as bad as a high school fangirl._

He walked over and took a seat on an empty bench, setting his bags next to him. He took the magazine in both hands, still staring at it. Somehow, he just couldn't pull his eyes away from that picture-perfect image.

"You _are_ perfect, Echizen," he whispered. "That's why I never expected an answer from you. Because I know that you could never actually…"

He paused for a moment, listening to the roar of an approaching train. Was that the express to Kyoto? He glanced up, and sure enough, his train had just pulled into the station.

"Well, enough of that. We'll be alright, won't we?" He smiled again at the picture, and then he carefully slid the old magazine back into his bag and fastened the zipper.

Taking up his bags again, he rose from his seat and took a deep breath.

"After all, everyone is happy now. And that's all that matters."

He was managing to ignore the growing ache inside of him quite successfully, until a faint murmur caught his ear. At the sound of that familiar voice, his body froze, and his heart leaped right out of his chest.

_Echizen?_

He looked around quickly, trying to find where it was coming from.

… Where was that voice coming from?

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Echizen Ryoma certainly looked the part of a famous tennis star. He was wearing a classy polo shirt and a designer sports jacket, with the usual white cap on his head. Before the questions had even begun, the room was filled with the flashing of cameras, as every last photographer in the place started frantically taking shots of the teenager.

As the journalists would later report, Ryoma also looked remarkably calm, as he faced the cameras with what appeared to be a kind of amiable indifference. Yet anyone who knew him well would have noticed that the star looked slightly pale, and that the blank look in his eyes betrayed that his thoughts were traveling a mile a minute. Still, his voice was perfectly normal as he greeted the reporters, and it seemed as though the press conference would go exactly as everyone expected.

However, everyone's expectations were shattered by the time Ryoma had answered the very first question.

The question was asked, as it turned out, by a reporter for a tennis magazine called _Pro Tennis Monthly_. The reporter, a man by the name of Inoue, asked Ryoma the following question…

"Echizen-san, would you please tell us what it is that drives you to keep playing tennis?"

Ryoma gave a slight nod, to show that he had heard the question. But then, for a moment, he was silent. He looked out across the sea of reporters, as though he were examining his surroundings and carefully formulating his response.

In fact, no one knew it, but that in that very moment, Echizen Ryoma was frozen in terror.

After a moment, though, he took a deep breath, shaking himself out of his trance. And then he began to reply, speaking every word in a clear tone that echoed in the microphones in front of him.

"Before I answer your question, Inoue-san, I would like to thank the people of Japan for their overwhelming support throughout my career. And I would also like to thank you all for coming here today for this interview."

There was a brief pause, as Ryoma slipped something into his pocket, much to everyone's confusion. They didn't know it, but the tennis star had just put away his manager's notes. From that moment on, every word that he said had never been written as part of a script, or pre-advised by his entourage.

From that moment on, it was simply Echizen Ryoma, speaking to the world.

"To answer your question, Inoue-san," he began again, looking back up at the crowd. "I don't have a good answer for you. As you know, I started playing tennis when I was very young. Tennis became a part of me, and I couldn't quit, even if I wanted to. And at first, that was all there was to it."

Ryoma looked straight into the cameras then, as if there was someone inside of them that he wanted to reach.

"But five years ago, I realized that there had to be more to it than that. Five years ago, someone showed me that there were more important reasons for playing tennis. This person inspired me to become the best tennis player that I could be. And with his encouragement, I eventually went on to enter the pro circuits."

Ryoma frowned then, and he didn't stop speaking, much to everyone's surprise.

"However, I made a mistake. When I entered the pro circuits, I made the mistake of thinking that becoming a world champion would give me everything I wanted from life. And I have to come to realize that it did not. In fact, there are things in life that I missed, because of that decision. Because of my ambition, I overlooked what was really important, and I left behind the most important people in my life."

The crowd was starting to get slightly restless by this point. They were all bewildered as to the direction the interview was taking, almost as bewildered as Ryoma's assistants backstage. What was the tennis star getting at…?

"And so, because of this…"

Here Ryoma faltered slightly, and the ensuing silence inside the hall was deafening. As it turned out, it was the calm just before the storm…

…

"_Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!"_

…

"Because of this, I am here today to announce my retirement from the pro circuits," he finished decisively.

The convention hall exploded in a wave of astonishment. Papers were rustling like trees in a hurricane, and a barrage of camera flashes filled the air. Backstage, Ryoma's entire entourage was engaged in a flurry of shock and dismay. Suddenly, though, Echizen Ryoma was completely calm. He felt as though a gigantic weight had been lifted off his shoulders, once and for all. And now that he had finally said it, he realized that it had been the best thing he had ever done.

From behind the curtain, Echizen Nanjiroh watched with a smile.

_I don't know who it was, but the person who gave that boy a reason to play tennis gave him something else as well…_

_He gave him a reason to live. And that reason had nothing to do with a ball and a racquet._

… _It's just lucky for the tennis world that he didn't realize it sooner._

And Nanjiroh watched, with a paternal kind of pride in his eyes, as his son faced the cameras with newfound composure.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"_I don't know if I will ever return to the pro circuits."_

As Eiji watched Ryoma on television, saying those words with such confidence to the camera, he was filled with a rush of happiness.

"I can't believe Ochibi is doing this," he murmured. "And he's doing it for us."

From the looks on Taka and Inui and Kaidoh's faces, they couldn't believe it either.

But that didn't stopped them from smiling uncontrollably, as they watched Echizen Ryoma retire from his tennis career at the ripe old age of seventeen.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"_For the time being, however, I will no longer compete in professional tournaments."_

Tezuka and Oishi were listening intently to the car radio, as Fuji sped along in the rental car.

"Can you believe this?" Oishi said softly, glancing at Tezuka. "He's actually retiring. I would never have guessed that he would do something like this…"

Tezuka said nothing, but Fuji managed to remark as he sped through a red light, "I'm not surprised. He's got a perfectly good reason to stay, after all."

"He won't if you don't drive faster," was Tezuka's observation, even though both Fuji and Oishi could tell that the stoic captain was happier than he'd been in a long, long time.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"_I'm sure I'll never stop playing tennis. But for now, there are other things that I need to learn."_

Momo was staring, completely stunned, at the tiny television that was mounted above the train schedule board. He hadn't even noticed that the interview had been going on above his head, until he had heard Ryoma's sudden declaration that he was retiring.

His luggage lay forgotten on the ground, as the express to Kanto left the station. Momo didn't notice its departure, though. He was too busy staring in astonishment at the television screen.

In fact, he was so busy staring that he didn't even notice three men come running up the stairs straight toward him.

"Momo!"

The power player turned around in surprise, only to see Tezuka, Fuji, and Oishi coming up alongside him with determination in their faces.

"Momo, you have to come back with us," Oishi said, grasping the younger man by the shoulder. "You can't leave. We need you."

"Oishi-senpai…" Momo was about to reply, when Tezuka interrupted him.

"Echizen needs you too, Momoshiro. Just as much as we do."

"Don't disappoint him, Momo," Fuji added. "Don't try to run away, like we did."

For a moment, the younger man just stood there, completely bewildered at all the sudden changes in events. And then, as he listened to the familiar voice above his head, he smiled.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"_I need to learn how to take care of the people that I care about."_

In a busy restaurant in another part of Tokyo, a young man glanced at one of the televisions above his head. His eyes widened, and he pointed intently at the screen, even though no one was paying attention to him.

"Isn't that Echizen-kun?" he murmured, pausing for a second to think about this. But then he started rambling on in a monotonous voice, heedless of the other people around him…

"Of course it is. It's Echizen-kun. I'd know that face anywhere. But what is he doing on television? … He's retiring from the pro circuits? Why is he retiring from the pro circuits? … I didn't think that he was losing any of his matches. And what's the point of retiring if you're not losing? Although he's always been a show-off like that…"

"Shinji, what on earth are you mumbling about this time?" came a voice behind his head.

"Oh. Tachibana-san. Look." And Shinji kept pointing to the television screen.

The former captain of Fudomine watched for a moment, gazing at the world-famous tennis star, as he told all of Japan that he was retiring…

And Tachibana Kippei crossed his arms and smiled, shaking his head.

"Kamio, you've got to come see this. You too, An," he called, even as he kept shaking his head in disbelief.

"I can't believe it," Kamio said after watching the television.

"Neither can I," An agreed, staring at the screen. "It's actually happening…"

After a split second, the two of them looked at each other.

"Well, it's about time!"

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"_I need to learn what's really important."_

Far away, in another part of Japan, a young man was gazing quietly into a store window. Inside were several television screens, all of which showed Echizen Ryoma retiring from the pro tennis circuit. As he watched that familiar figure tell those reporters that he'd finally found something more important than tennis, the observer smiled to himself.

"I'm happy for you, Aniki," he said under his breath. "They can be your closest family now. I know they'll take good care of you... Especially him."

There was a pause, and suddenly Fuji Yuuta heard a voice beside him.

"What in the world are you watching, Yuuta-kun?"

"Ah, Mizuki-san, I'm watching Echizen Ryoma's press conference."

Yuuta couldn't resist smiling, as he watched the corner of Mizuki's eyebrow start to twitch.

"Echizen Ryoma's _press conference_? Why I didn't know about this? … I always know about everything that goes on in the tennis community! To think that something like this should slip under my radar is nothing short of absurd…"

Yuuta laughed, as his former manager went off on a most characteristic rant. But he couldn't resist glancing one last time at the television screen.

_Thanks, Echizen. I owe you one._

- - - - - - - - - - -

"_And there are people who need me. So I have to be there for them, first of all."_

In a large mansion in the picturesque setting of Switzerland, the faint sound of clapping was echoing inside one of the hallways.

Inside the study, a huge flat-screen television was showing a broadcast from a Japanese news network via satellite. And standing right in front of that giant screen was a familiar figure in a silver bathrobe, applauding quietly.

"Well done, Echizen," Atobe said with a satisfied smile, gazing at the picture of the tennis star.

"Sir, do you know that young man?" a servant asked.

Atobe never answered the question, instead giving the servant a typical command. "Ah, there you are. Wake my other guests, would you? I imagine all six of them want breakfast, and I wouldn't want them to miss it."

"As you wish, sir."

After the servant had left the room, Atobe smiled again, coming up alongside his leather chair. With a very satisfied look, he sat down and crossed his legs.

"And that is how things should be. Wouldn't you say, Kabaji…?"

"Usu."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was a very happy day for nine former teammates, when they were finally reunited after the press conference. It was one of those things that happened at just the right time, in just the right way, and it was something that they never forgot.

When the interview ended in a hurry, due to the chaos that Ryoma's announcement had caused, the tennis star had attempted to make it out of the convention center and start heading toward the hotel. By that point, however, the sidewalks were so crowded that the task was nearly impossible, and he had started to give up hope of ever making it to his hotel room, much less Eiji's apartment.

Much to Ryoma's surprise, however, he was then suddenly yanked inside a little red convertible. Having decided while he was watching the conference that Ryoma would need a ride home, Eiji had driven all the way to the center, only to whisk him back to the apartment in record time. Once they arrived, Taka and Inui and Kaidoh had been there to meet him.

And as they began to make their way back up the stairs to the building's entrance, another car pulled up and jerked to a halt.

Ryoma was standing at the top of the small flight of stairs that led to the door, as he watched Momo get out of the car.

For a moment, Momo just stood there, staring up at Ryoma from a distance.

…

"_And then, a funny thing happened…"_

…

As their eyes met, Ryoma suddenly understood what could hold the stars up. They were suspended every night, after all, in a deep purple sky. That was why they were able to fly high above the earth, supported by the dark, invisible arms of heaven…

Now, though, Ryoma knew what he really wanted, more than anything else.

He just wanted to fall back into that sky.

He held out his arms toward Momo, and the power player found himself rushing forward, as the former tennis star jumped down the steps…

…

"_Then I realized it would be like trying to catch a star."_

…

"_If I am a star, I would rather fall."_

…

Momo caught Ryoma in his arms, holding him tightly in that familiar embrace, the one that Ryoma had finally recognized from his stray moments of déjà vu.

And of course, it was suddenly so obvious.

This was what he wanted from life.

_A funny thing happened. I realized that I loved him._

As he thought it, Ryoma smiled to himself.

"I love you, Momo-senpai," he said, sounding so much like the boy they all remembered.

"I love you too, Echizen," was Momo's simple reply, even though it was filled with the most genuine kind of happiness.

"Thank you," Ryoma added, as he locked his arms around his senpai's neck. "If it weren't for you, I would have left, and I never would have realized…"

Ryoma never finished the thought, and there was a moment's pause, followed by a bright interruption.

"You want to stay with us?" Eiji offered hopefully, causing a few stray laughs.

"Of course I want to stay with you!" Ryoma exclaimed, laughing himself. "I thought you were watching the TV, Kikumaru-senpai!"

"Hey, you didn't say it, Echizen," Momo teased, still holding Ryoma in the air.

"Oh, right. Mada mada dane."

"Now that's better," declared Momo. "And now, what does our prince want us to do, if we're going to stay together?"

Ryoma thought about this for a moment, and then he smiled, winking at Fuji.

"Maybe we could run away."

But Fuji just shook his head, with a genuine smile.

"No, Echizen. This time, we won't have to."

The tensai looked at Tezuka for a moment, and then turned back to Ryoma, gazing happily into those perfect golden eyes.

"This time, you're here with us, after all."

Tezuka nodded, offering the teenage boy his own smile.

"So, everything will be alright."

For a moment, Ryoma looked at all eight faces that were smiling back at him. And for the first time, he could feel it… Those words weren't a hopeless wish. At last, they were a fact, because he had finally realized what he wanted. And there was no way that he was ever going to let it go.

"Yes. Everything will be alright. I promise."

* * *

**EPILOGUE **

Echizen Ryoma was a legend in the world of tennis. He shattered the age records for all four Grand Slam tournaments within the first five years of his career. But at the age of seventeen, he suddenly retired from the tennis scene. To the general public, his reasons for doing this were completely unknown, and would remain so during his years away from the pro circuit.

During this time, however, Echizen Ryoma was anything but idle, a truth unknown to most of the world. He traveled extensively, and it was a little known fact that this was because of his eight former teammates from junior high. Despite having frequent reunions, as they had promised each other upon Ryoma's retirement, they were still scattered throughout the world, busily fulfilling their own unfinished dreams. Ryoma had his hands full visiting them all, keeping in touch, and often changing their lives in ways they never even imagined possible.

Shortly after Ryoma retired, his friend Kawamura Takashi was married to a woman named Hoshina Kimiko. The former tennis star attended the wedding, which was a perfect Japanese ceremony, followed by a less formal reception. When Ryoma showed the bride how to throw a bouquet in the Western way, however, it caused quite a stir… Mainly because it was Eiji who caught it, and he blushed like a schoolgirl when he discovered what the tradition meant.

Kawamura Takashi and his wife would go on to have a baby only a year after their wedding. It was a beautiful little boy, and they gave him the name 'Shusuke.'

As for Eiji and Oishi, the Golden Pair, they were living in an apartment in England, thanks to Ryoma's financial generosity. Oishi was able to finish out his education at Oxford, and later went on to publish a book of poems in English that won considerable literary recognition. The poems were highly acclaimed for their powerful depiction of unrequited love, and readers and writers alike often wondered what the source of the young Japanese writer's inspiration could have been. As for Eiji, he decided to quit school around the same time that Ryoma retired. He spent his days with Oishi, taking care of the apartment and spoiling their cat, Shuuko-chan. They never left each other's side, and it was impossible to find one without the other. And so, even though the Golden Pair never picked up their tennis racquets again, it was obvious that they were two of the happiest people alive. They would remain so for the rest of their years.

Echizen Ryoma was known for being a genius at tennis, but he would often insist that the only real genius that he knew was a young photographer by the name of Fuji Shusuke. This man lived in Paris for much of his time, working on whatever project struck his fancy and creating quite a stir in the Parisian art circles. Shortly after Ryoma's retirement, this same Fuji created the most famous work of his entire career. It was a vivid black and white photograph, very similar to his earlier piece "A Fallen God." This masterpiece, however, was titled, "The Faithful Prince," and Ryoma himself was the subject.

Living with Fuji was another man by the name of Tezuka Kunimitsu, who, as rumor had it, was a tennis player undergoing extensive rehabilitation at the cost of none other than Echizen Ryoma. It would be several years before Tezuka's weakened arm would manage to heal completely, but once it did, this man shocked the tennis world with his ability. In fact, he was rumored to be a player with talent rivaling that of Echizen Ryoma. However, he did not register for the pro circuits, so the assertion remained largely unconfirmed. The reason for this decision remained a secret, but at its heart was Tezuka's affection for Fuji Shusuke. The photographer was said to be afflicted with a repressed form of schizophrenia, and with Ryoma's help, was getting treated for his disease. It was Tezuka, however, who refused to leave his side, remaining in Paris for as long as Fuji called it home.

It was a relief to all tennis fans when, nearly four years later, Ryoma announced that he would be returning to the pro circuits. By this time, though, new talent was starting to appear in the field. Another Japanese upstart by the name of Kaidoh Kaoru had taken the tennis world by storm when he appeared on the pro circuit, about a year after Ryoma had first retired. He was under the exclusive care of a new trainer named Inui Sadaharu, whose remarkable advances in liquid nutrition stunned the medical community.

In all the intrigue surrounding Echizen Ryoma's sudden retirement, it is interesting to note that one mystery was never solved. The exact reason for his departure from the tennis scene for four years was never discovered. It is known, however, that wherever Echizen Ryoma goes, a young man with black hair and dark eyes follows him. The two, however, have remained particularly adept at outwitting the paparazzi. It is said that they even seem to enjoy pulling off great escapes to stay out of the spotlight, so if the two do have some kind of relationship, the world at large will probably never know more about it than that.

**THE END.**

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_**Final Author's Note**_

_Well, after about a semester of writing, 'When I Come Back to You' is finally finished. I almost can't believe that it's over, but then again, it doesn't seem like it took that long to write. I know I made it pretty complex, with all the secrets and plot twists, but at its heart, it's a very simple story. It's really just about the Seigaku Regulars, and also about how I think the anime ending was incomplete, what with Ryoma leaving to enter the US Open and all that. This is because I see Seigaku as a unit, and I don't think they should ever have to 'do without' Ryoma being at their side. So I just wanted to write a story about the way I think we all wish it had ended… With the Seigaku Regulars together again._

_Still, it was a pretty complicated story, and I know many of you probably think I glossed over all the problems at the end. Also, it seems like the Regulars finally reunite, only to part again in the epilogue. I am aware of this, but I did that on purpose. The healing that many of the Regulars will need, outside from having Ryoma again, is the kind of healing that takes time and effort to obtain. Additionally, I didn't want to write some kind of escapist ending, where they all immediately abandon their own dreams just to be together. Obviously, I didn't have room for all that in the story, but I did write an epilogue that I hope gives you a glimpse of what happened afterwards. Also, I am aware that this means there is room for a sequel. Whether or not there will be one, I still haven't decided… But you can feel free to add me to your Author Alert, if you are interested in reading a sequel, or just keep an eye on the PoT section here on all that said, I just wanted to say that I can't believe the support that this story received. **And I want to say a sincere, heartfelt, gigantic THANK YOU to ALL my readers and reviewers.** You are truly amazing, and I can't tell you how much you encouraged me, not only to finish this story, but to keep writing in general. Honestly, I don't think I deserved all the praise, but I am so grateful for it. Thank you so much, everyone!_

_**I know it's not a huge payback, but as a present for my reviewers, I did want to say this… I will reply to every single one of the reviews on Chapter 25, to tell you how much I appreciate your support, and to answer any questions.** It's the least I can do, to thank all of you for reading this far and for giving me so much encouragement. So, thanks once again! -bows-_

_On a more personal note… I do apologize again for the delay on this final chapter. I did my best to get it out early in the week, but I forgot that my family was leaving on a short vacation. So I was away from the computer for most of this week! Sorry to all of those who have been trying to contact me via e-mail… I'll get back to you asap!_

_It does seem fitting, though, that because of the delays, I am posting the last chapter (a few hours late) on Ryoma's birthday, and just in time for Christmas. So this last chapter is my birthday present to Ryoma, and a present to all of Seigaku as well. -hugs them- I love you all, my dears! This story was for you, whether or not you would appreciate such a sugary sweet ending. Lol. XD_

_Well, that's it, folks! Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll maybe consider checking out my upcoming projects, once I do get around to posting them. Merry Christmas, and a happy holiday to you all! -waves goodbye-_


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